But I'm a Prep!
by Sita-chan
Summary: COMPLETE "Is everybody ready?” "No. But we’re going anyway. What other choice do we have?" [slash, language]
1. Prologue

Okay, who's sick of me? (Audience Members: *all raise hands simultaneously*) Yeah, that's what I thought. *grins* Anyway, welcome to my first comedy series here in the loverly _Newsies_ section. This is based on the extremely hysterical movie known as _But I'm a Cheerleader_. If you haven't seen it, that's fine (thought you really should watch it, because it's really friggin' funny. *giggles*). And I swore to myself that I'd never do a casting call, but... well, I am. ^_^ More info about that at the end.

Disclaimers: Sita doesn't own _But I'm a Cheerleader_ or _Newsies_. If she owned either, there would be lots of snogging between Jack and Spot and a lot MORE snogging between Dolph and Clayton. *grins*

Warnings: Erm... none for this chapter...

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But I'm a Prep!

Prologue

You know, I've never had a reason to complain about my life before now. Really. I haven't. Even though I'm blind in my left eye and have to wear a rather uncomfortable patch, I've gotten used to it, and people don't really judge me by it. The rest of my life is pretty much perfect. Even my family. 

My dad's Herman Cliffton. Yeah, _the _Herman Cliffton. As in, the best lawyer in Manhattan. Possibly the best lawyer in New York. My relationship with my dad hasn't always been the greatest, but we tolerate each other. It's not like he's ever home, anyway, so I don't have to deal with his crap that much.

My mom, on the other hand, is about as kick-ass as a mom can get. She's never had to work (I guess you can say that we're rich), which gave her plenty of time to pursue her dreams. One of which was acting. As it turns out, she's _really_ good at it. She does lots of community theater shows around New York. Eventually, she wants to do Broadway. But that's not why my mom rocks. My mom rocks because she balanced raising six kids, a potential theater career, and taking care of a three-story house (we've never had maids or butlers or anything like that, though our house is big enough for them; my mother refused). She rocks because I feel like I can talk to her. What's more, I feel like she listens. And I know that a lot of seventeen-year-olds _definitely_ don't feel that way about their mothers.

My oldest brother, Ira, is kind of like my dad's Mini-Me. We don't get along, so I'll skip him.

Ahhh, my sisters. Isabel and Iris, the twin terrors. They're both twenty-one, and I love them to death. You know the Harry Potter books? Well, they're female versions of Fred and George. Really. Once, when I was nine, they snuck into Ira's room when he was sleeping over at a friend's house and completely covered the walls with pictures of naked men. It was absolutely hysterical. Anyway. Isabel, who I more commonly call Izzy, is the mastermind behind everything while Iris actually does all the dirty work. But they seem to like it that way. My friends all love them, but I'm afraid to bring over any people that the girls haven't met yet. Izzy and Iris feel the need to "initiate" my new friends by dunking their head in a bucket of water, pulling their pants off, and painting their quote of the day on their ass (by the way, today's is, "Love is grand; divorce is a hundred grand). And you think that's bad? You should see what they do to my girlfriends.

Then, there's me, Isaac. People tend to call me Kid Blink because of my eye. I feel like it should bother me, but it doesn't. You'll hear plenty about me throughout the course of my little story, so I don't need to talk about myself.

My little sister, Ilyssa, is fourteen. She _definitely_ takes after my dad. No sense of humor whatsoever. Izzy and Iris tried to "initiate" one of her friends, and 'Lyssa went _nuts_. Anyway. She's incredibly smart, from what I understand. Her I.Q. is obnoxiously high for her age, so say the parentals. She's always in her room, reading and studying. There are periods of time when I forget what her voice sounds like. I mean, it's great that she reads a lot, but she needs to have a social life, too. She doesn't have any friends, and I feel really bad for the kid. It's not that she isn't likable, because she _is_. She can be really nice when she wants to, and she's a great listener. But Ilyssa doesn't know how to act around other kids. She doesn't seem to care, though.

And, finally, my little brother. I don't know what we'd do without Isaiah. He's the only one who can still make my dad laugh. He's nine and enjoys spending his days climbing trees, playing soccer, and, every now and then, reading with 'Lyssa. He's really well-rounded. He plays sports, which makes my dad happy, does theater, which makes my mom happy, and gets good grades, which makes them both happy. He just knows how to please everyone.

So, yeah. My family has a few problems here and there, but I know how lucky I am to have such a great family and to have as much money as we do. I'm lucky that my dad has a great job so my mom doesn't have to go and work three jobs to help support all six kids. I'm lucky that both of my parents love me, I'm lucky that people at school seem to like me, and I'm lucky that I have such a wonderful girlfriend. 

So why did my life suddenly twist itself inside out?

I mean, come on!

Ah, well. I'll prove that they're wrong; they'll see. I'm not like the rest of these kids. I'm not like Snitch and Itey and the others. And I'm _definitely_ not like that Racetrack asshole.

But until I can prove that they're wrong...

I'm stuck in this True Directions place with that crazy Medda lady teaching me how to be straight.

Let me ask a simple question...

How can they teach me how to be straight when I'm not gay to begin with?!

****

End Prologue

A bit rushed, I know. But the sole purpose of this prologue was to introduce Blink's family. Because I like them. *smiles* Anyway, on to the casting call. I'll need quiet a few girls to be students and cheerleaders and whatnot in the beginning, one girl to be Blink's girlfriend (trust me, she's not that big of a part), and then four to five girls to be lesbians at True Directions, the school that tries to teach homosexuals how to be straight (*rolls eyes*). Since this fic will take place mostly at True Directions, the lesbians will have the largest parts. They'll be in it a _lot_. Hmmm... what else? I'm probably not going to use everyone (depending on how many people actually want to do this), but I'll try to! Okay, here's the information I'll need... by the way, try to make the "appearance" and "personality" sections as detailed as you can. Just makes it more interesting to read; I like well-rounded characters. Anyway:

****

Name:

Nickname:

Story Behind Nickname:

Age:

Appearance:

Personality:

Likes:

Dislikes:

Strengths (i.e: good at singing, cooking, etc):

Weaknesses (i.e: bad at singing, cooking, etc):

Other (something interesting that I should know about your char):

That's all I need for now. I'll ask for more detailed stuff from the zero people who will probably actually want to participate in this. *sweatdrop* Anyway, send your character profile to **tweetybird3413@aol.com**. I'd really appreciate it if some people actually did send in their characters. *shrug* Okies, enough of that. **Casting Call Closes Tuesday, July 15th!** As in, I'll accept profiles on the 15th, but not afterwards. So, yay! I'm really excited about this, and I hope people actually like it. *waves* *bounces off*


	2. Chapter One: Intervention

Salutations, world! Sita here with the first actual chapter of her shameless rip-off of _But I'm a Cheerleader_. Uber-thanks to everyone who sent in their characters! I'm trying to at least mention everyone. Also, I figured out a way to give a few more people an actual part. *cackles madly over her corruption of a wonderful movie* Anyway. *holds up a massive sign that reads "Review Whore"*

Disclaimers: If you recognize the name, they're property of _Disney_. If you don't, they're property of their owner! Short, sweet, and semi-incoherent! ^-^

Warnings: Language, eventual slash, probably femslash as well

****

But I'm a Prep!

Chapter One

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

I heard the clock strike four and fought back a groan. Denton was taking _forever_ to proofread my article. Zooey was gonna kill me if I wasn't there to pick her up.

Just when I was teetering on the brink of insanity, Denton looked at me and nodded.

"This is good, Isaac. _Very_ good." He set it down on his already cluttered desk and smiled at me. I inadvertently winced away from the combined glare of his overly-white teeth and his gelled hair. "It's good to see the students of Grace King express their opinions about things that matter to them, and..."

I kinda zoned out. All I heard for the next ten minutes was a sort of Charlie Brown-esque "bwaaa bwa bwaaa bwa bwaaaaa."

"... and, you know, I agree with you completely. Religion classes should cover _all_ religions, not just Christianity. I think I'll take this up with Mr. Pulitzer." He smiled again and told me that I was free to go.

With a barely repressed sigh of relief, I leaped out of the chair and raced out of Denton's office.

You know, I like Denton. Really, I do. Even though his hair looks like some kind of murdered wombat, and even though he wears those horribly disgusting bow ties, he's a nice guy.

But right now, I hate him with a burning, raging passion.

My girlfriend was going to gut me, and it was all his fault.

Panting, I raced upstairs, plowing through a bunch of freshman as I went. Hey, they were just freshman. It's not like they had actual feelings (A/N: No offense to any actual freshman who may be reading this. ^^;;;) Finally, I reached my locker, yanked it open, and began unceremoniously dumping various textbooks into my beaten-up, tattered, old black backpack (A/N: Anyone else remember that "Little, Black Backpack" song? Sorry, that was totally unnecessary. ^-^;;;).

"Hiya, Blink! Just the guy I wanted to see!" A hand grabbed the edge of my locker before I could close it. I glanced to my right and found myself staring into a pair of laughing blue-green eyes with a slightly evil grin to match.

Avery Anatevka, editor-in-chief of _The King's Herald_ (our newspaper). Better known as Smartass. I sighed.

"What do you need, Smartass?" She put on an insanely fake puppy dog face before continuing.

"Wanna be my best friend and take my article to Denton?" She waved a crumpled sheet of paper in my face, and I rolled my eye.

"Look, I'd love to any other time, but I'm already late. I've got to go pick up Zooey," I explained apologetically. Smartass raised an eyebrow.

"She's got you whipped."

"Shut up," I muttered. "I don't have time for this."

"But you've got time to ogle a certain Mr. Connor Oberst?" She gestured to the Bright Eyes poster on the inside of my locker. I frowned.

"I wasn't _ogling_ anyone. I just like Bright Eyes." Smartass' grin widened (if that's even possible).

"Keep telling yourself that, Kid. Just like I keep telling myself Tiger is sane."

As if on cue, a blond girl dressed completely in black trudged past us, staring intently at a small penknife in her hand.

"Heya, Tiger!"

"Uh."

"Good day?"

"Uh."

"Have you found a way to get those rabid armadillos out of your ass?" Hey, we don't call her Smartass for nothing. 

"Uh."

Tiger opened the door to the stairwell and headed towards the front entrance. She never looked at us once.

Smartass smiled cheerily at me, shoved her article into my hand, and skipped off down the hallway.

"Thanks a million, Blink!"

I sighed as I looked at my watch. 4:27. I had precisely three minutes to make it to Central Park. I was never going to make it anyway.

So, I raced back to Denton's office and handed him Smartass' article.

Why? 'Cause I'm a nice guy. A gentleman, if you will.

I was finally able to leave the halls of Grace King High School without any further interruptions. With a sigh of relief, I leaped into my bright yellow VW Bug and raced towards Central Park at the speed of light.

Hey, you'd be surprised at how fast those little things can go.

After a few minutes of rather reckless driving where I flicked off quite a few people and almost killed a couple of pedestrians, I screeched to a halt a short distance from where the Grace King cheerleaders were practicing their newest routine. I mentally thanked whatever supreme being actually existed; their practice had run late, and I could, therefore, keep my intestines! Hooray!

A few seconds later, a mob of chattering girls in freakishly skimpy green and white cheerleading uniforms oozed towards their cars. I quickly picked my girlfriend out of the aforementioned mass.

Bridget Zewe, more frequently called Zooey due to an amusing mispronunciation of her last name, was an incredible girl. She was tiny and blond and kind of pale, so she often reminded me of a porcelain doll. Or maybe one made out of rubber. This girl was a definite dancer; she twisted herself into the weirdest positions all in the name of her first love: cheerleading.

What'd you think I was gonna say, you pervert?

"Hi, Isaac!" she chirped happily, climbing into the passenger's seat.

"Hey, Bri-" I didn't even finish my greeting before she grabbed my face and jammed her tongue down my throat.

I kissed her back, of course. I mean, I _had_ to. It was the obligatory boyfriend thing that I had to do. I couldn't help but wonder if other guys felt this way when their girlfriends kissed them. You know, like it was something that they just had to do.

After a few very, _very_, VERY long minutes, I pushed her back.

"Hey, I gotta get you home, don't I?" She pouted a little, but nodded. We drove in relative silence. Not that I really minded. It's been getting harder and harder to talk to Zooey. We just... don't have that much in common, I guess. Oh, well. I love her anyway.

A few minutes later, we were in her driveway. With her tongue in my mouth. Again.

I didn't know how much more of this I could take.

*~*~*

"I'M HOME!" I yelled, hanging my coat in the foyer closet.

I realized that there was something wrong when nothing happened. Isaiah didn't come running into the room to tackle me. Izzy and Iris' latest practical joke didn't dump itself on my head or explode in my face. Ilyssa didn't yell at me to shut up because she was trying to read. Nothing. Not a sound.

"Anybody home?" I yelled.

"Isaac, come into the living room. We need to talk to you." My father's voice echoed through the foyer, and I felt my blood turn to ice. Why would my dad want to _talk_ to me? He hadn't _talked_ to me since freshman year when I started dating Zooey, and he told me to wear protection (which was kind of pointless, since we haven't done anything sexual).

_Okay, Blink, one foot in front of the other_, I told myself. I walked mechanically into the living room. 

The television was off, and so was the stereo. I think that's when I first realized that there was something _seriously_ wrong. There always has to be some kind of sound in the house. That way, my parents can avoid talking to one another. And if that didn't clue me in, the fact that my parents were sitting next to one another certainly did. My father was seated on one of the beige, leather sofas situated around the room. He was staring at me with a completely blank expression. My mom sat right next to him. She was gazing out of the glass door at the pool, and she looked generally pissed off. Ira glared at me from his designated spot by Dad's side. Izzy and Iris were standing by the fireplace, alternating between looking angry, worried, and confused. Ilyssa and Isaiah were probably upstairs.

I stared at my family.

"What exactly is going on?"

"This is your intervention, Isaac," my father replied immediately. I blinked.

"Intervention? Intervention for _what_?"

"Maybe I can explain." I turned my attention to some guy I'd never seen before who was standing a few feet away from my sisters. He had curly black hair and bright blue eyes. He was wearing denim shorts that seemed a bit too short for comfort as well as a way-too-tight blue shirt that boasted the words "True Directions." He couldn't have been more than two or three years older than me, but he talked to me like he was some kind of father figure. He amiably extended his hand. "I'm David Jacobs. I work at a place called True Directions." I tentatively shook his hand and sat on the fireplace. Iris patted me gently on the back.

"Great. Nice to meet you, David, but I still don't have a clue what's going on." David directed his gaze towards my mom.

"Mrs. Cliffton, would you care to explain?" he asked gently. My mother glared at him. And my mother does _not_ glare. You don't understand how scary this was. It was like... I don't know, Mother Theresa threatening to kill someone. It was just _wrong_.

"No, I would _not_ care to _fucking_ explain," she hissed.

Now, it takes a lot to get my mom even _remotely_ agitated. And never, _never_, in my seventeen years on this earth, had I _ever_ seen my mom get pissed to the point of having to curse at someone.

"Calandra, don't do this."

"This is _your_ bright idea, Herman. You take care of it." My father sighed and turned his attention back to me.

"I'll be blunt with you, Isaac. Quite frankly, we think you're gay."

With that lovely, little phrase, my brain shut down completely. I couldn't do anything except stare blankly.

"Great, you gave him a heart attack," I heard one of the twins mutter.

"You... you think... I'm _what_?"

"Gay. Queer. A homo. A fairy. A fudgepacker. A butt pirate. A fa-"

"Thank you, Isabel, that's _quite_ enough."

I suddenly had a flashback.

_"But you've got time to ogle a certain Mr. Connor Oberst?"_

"How the _hell_ did you come to that decision?" Ira held up one of my CDs. I recognized it as Me First and the Gimme Gimmes.

"These guys are in drag, Isaac." I shrugged.

"It's a publicity stunt. People have done crazier stuff." Ira raised an eyebrow.

"They do covers of musical theater songs."

"So what?"

"So, what straight guys do you know who like musical theater?" I glared at him.

"Our _mother_ is an _actress_! I got it from her! It's not that big of a deal!" I cried. My mother opened her mouth, probably to agree with me.

"Isaac, it's not healthy to pin your own problems on your mother," David said calmly. My jaw dropped.

"And who the _hell_ do you think you are?!" I yelled. Everyone in my family blinked. I guess I surprised them. I'm almost always smiling and laughing; I hardly ever get mad. Kinda like my mom.

But my mom was pissed off now. And so was I.

Ooooh, was I pissed off. 

"Isaac, I'm just trying to-"

"You think I give a flying fuck what you're trying to do?!"

"_Language_, Isaac!" I ignored my dad. I was on a roll.

"You burst into my house with your goofy-looking clothes and your touchy-feely attitude, convince my family that I'm gay, and expect me to be okay about it?!"

David waited calmly for me to finish and never moved an eyelash, which only pissed me off more.

"Well, why don't you just sit down for a little while and hear us out, okay?"

I sighed in defeat and collapsed back onto the fireplace.

"Now, you father has expressed some concern about your sexual orientation," David said solemnly, putting on his "I'm your best friend, everything's gonna be okay" face. 

"How can I be gay when I have a girlfriend?!" David ignored me. Bastard.

"I work at a place called True Directions where there are people who can give you the help that you need and deserve." I glared at him.

"So, basically, if I go to this True Directions place, you'll teach me how to be straight, right?" David beamed.

"Right."

"Well, then, what's the point? I'm _already_ straight!" David placed his hand on my shoulder.

"It's okay that you don't want to admit it. That's what True Directions is for," he said. He bit his lip like what he was about to say was so _very_ painful for him. "I, myself, had your attitude when my parents sent me True Directions. But I'm an _ex_-gay now, Isaac, and soon enough, you can be, too!" I was about ready to explode.

"Look, I'm not going to a gay rehab center."

"You are, and that's final. Your things have already been packed," my father said nonchalantly. "You're leaving immediately." With that, he stood up, shook hands with David, and left the room. Ira smirked at me and followed. David nodded at me, smiled, and left the room.

"Isaac, you've got to believe that this wasn't my idea," my mother said quickly. "I am so, _so_ sorry about all of this." She got up and hugged me tightly. I could tell that she was trying not to cry.

"Mom, do _you_ think I'm gay?" She smiled sadly.

"Honey, I don't know, and, frankly, I don't care. I'll still love you no matter _what_ you are." 

I know it sounds kind of cheesy and really fifties sit-com-ish, but hearing my mom say that made me feel a little better.

"Thanks, Mom."

"No problem, sweetheart." She sighed. "I'd better go... do something, I don't know." 

There were tears streaming down her face even before she left the room.

Izzy and Iris looked at each other.

"We're supposed to drive you over there," Iris said quietly. "Dad and David already put your crap in the car."

"We don't agree with this, Blink. We just want you to know that," Izzy said. Iris nodded vehemently. It was pretty obvious that they were still pissed about this whole stupid thing, but I couldn't help but smile. Izzy and Iris were the only ones in my family who called me by my nickname.

"I believe you." They both smiled and gave me a hug.

I followed them out the door towards the freak with the too-short shorts.

*~*~*

I stopped dead in my tracks.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," I muttered.

True Directions was composed of three large buildings, one medium-sized one, and one small one. The medium-sized building sat directly in the middle of the complex. It looked like it was straight of the cheesy fifties sit-com that I'd been talking about earlier. It was a kind of dark pink color with a neat row of colorful flowers in front. The roof was white, as well as the door and shutters. According to David, that's where the owner of the place and the employees lived. A larger building sat on either side of the house. They were completely identical, except for the fact that one was light pink and the other was dark blue. They were the separate dorms for the boys and girls. I could see the top of the third large building. It was dark green. That was where we'd be doing indoor "training." 

I didn't like the sound of that. 

Finally, there was one tiny building built like a doghouse. Which was what it was. David told me that if you got in trouble, you were sent to the Doghouse for a week. Solitary confinement. Hooray.

Izzy and Iris both clapped me on the shoulder.

"We'll find a way to bust you out."

With that final, hopeful comment, they leaped into their car and drove away.

I was left, alone, with a group of people who were convinced that I was gay. Well, my life was perfect.

"You must be Isaac Cliffton!" I tore my gaze away from the twins' rapidly disappearing SUV and looked towards the source of the voice.

A sort of scary-looking woman had come out of the middle building. She looked to be in her late forties, but I couldn't tell. The lady had obviously had gotten a couple hundred face lifts. She had curly red hair and was wearing a dark pink skirt and blazer that clashed horribly with said hair.

Spoke too soon. _Now_ my life was perfect.

"Uh, yeah, that's me." I'd briefly considering denying it, but figured that it wouldn't do any good. It's not like I could get back home or even to one of my friends' houses; I had no idea where I was.

She smiled a completely fake smile and extended her hand.

"I'm Medda Larkson. Please, call me Miss Medda." Reluctantly, I shook her hand. "This is my nephew, Colin, and my niece, Kathleen." She gestured behind her.

The nephew was the epitome of male perfection. He was absolutely _ripped_. Muscles like that would look horrible on me, but he somehow managed to pull them off. He was reasonably dark-complected which fit well with his shock of curly, dark hair. He looked like he'd been taking fashion lessons from that David jerk (who'd disappeared inside the boy's dorm the second the car had stopped). His shorts looked like they were about to disappear up his ass, and his white tank top seemed like it had shrunk in the washing machine.

The niece looked like she'd stepped straight out of the pages of _YM_. She was tall, really tall, and had straight, dark blond hair. But what really got you staring were her eyes. They were _huge_ and the darkest blue I'd ever seen. She was wearing a loose-fitting, dark green shirt, a pair of jeans, and one of those trinity knot necklaces. A silver one. 

The boy and the girl reintroduced themselves and asked me to call them Mush and Ireland, respectively. Medda rolled her eyes.

"I suppose nicknames are popular at your school, too?" I nodded mutely. She chuckled in a very motherly way, but she wasn't fooling me with her, "hey, let's all be friends" mannerisms. "These kids and their fads. I allow them to call each other by their silly nicknames, but I refuse to do it myself." She smiled a huge, fake smile and gestured to the door. "Come inside my office, and we'll talk."

Numbly, I followed the crazy lady with the bad hair into the sit-com house and felt the last shred of my sanity flutter away on the wind.

*~*~*

I felt a small twitch developing as I glanced around Medda's office. It was a dark plum color with black chairs and a tall black desk. But the picture frames, the flower vases, hell, even the light switches? Pink. Bright, neon pink.

Medda folded her hands and stared at me.

"Now, Isaac, your father tells me that you're a homosexual." I sighed in exasperation. Why did everyone all of a sudden think I was gay?!

"Well, my _father_ is wrong. I swear I'm not gay." Medda nodded slowly.

"You know, all of our students say that when they first get here. But I have high hopes for you, Isaac. You'll come around eventually." She smiled brightly.

I fought back the urge to claw her eyes out.

Have you ever been accused of something that you didn't do? Like cheating or something? You know how frustrated you feel when nobody will listen to you even though you really are innocent?

Yeah. Take that feeling, multiply it by a few hundred, and up the embarrassment factor a couple of notches, and you might have a _taste_ of what I was going through.

I vaguely realized that Bad Hair Lady was still babbling.

"... so, until you're ready to admit that you're living a lie, you'll have to wear these." She reached behind her desk and produced a pile of grey fabric. Upon closer inspection, I realized that it was actually a pair of pants and a baggy shirt. Both grey. Both pretty gross-looking.

The fact that she accused me of living a lie and the absolute horror I felt at having to wear that crap battled for authority in my mind.

The horror won.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me!" I cried. "Christ, I wouldn't dress my _dog_ in that! If I had a dog, anyway." Medda raised an eyebrow.

"Why does having to wear this upset you so much, Isaac?" My eyes probably _bugged_ out of my head.

"BECAUSE I'LL LOOK LIKE CRAP!"

"And why do you care what you look like?" I stopped myself from ranting further, and stared at her suspiciously.

"What are you getting at?" Medda smiled brightly.

"Well, concerns about appearances are generally considered a feminine trait."

I stared at her.

"I just can't win with you people, can I?" She ignored me. 

God, I hate being ignored.

"Here, Isaac. Go put these on, and I'll call Ewan in to come show you around."

Grumbling angrily and wondering who the hell Ewan was, I trotted off to the (VERY PINK) bathroom and yanked on the "pants" and "shirt," if those shapeless masses of cloth could even be called that. They were practically falling off of me.

I trudged back to Medda's office a few minutes later. She was smiling her huge, fake smile and there was a guy standing there. He had dark hair and eyes, an innocent kind of grin, and Twix bar. He beamed at me, swallowed his chunk of Twix, and held out his hand.

"Hiya!" he said cheerfully. "I'm Ewan Wyche, but everybody calls me Pie Eater. Or just Pie."

"Can't imagine why," I muttered dryly. He completely missed the sarcasm.

"Oh, it's 'cause I really, really, _really_ like pie. And sweet stuff in general." He grinned sheepishly before hastily wrapping his Twix bar and shoving it in his pocket.

I think that's when I noticed how he was dressed.

Dark blue pants, a light blue shirt, and a dark blue tie. It was kind of frightening. Too much blue for me. 

"All right, Isaac. Ewan will show you around the campus. When you've seen everything you need to see, come to the Training Building for a group introduction session!" Medda smiled once more before shooing us out of her office. Pie Eater grinned at me.

"I was all excited when Miss Medda told us we were getting another kid. I was all like, 'woo!' You know? Anyway, we all got here yesterday. We've already completed Step One. Oh, you _do_ know about the Steps, right?"

I shook my head. I _would_ have verbally told him, but something told me that I wasn't going to be able to get a word in with this kid. His eyes widened.

"Oh, then I better tell you, huh? True Directions is a five-step program. Step One is 'Admitting You're a Homosexual.'" He stopped by a long poster on the side of the building. It had a bunch of names in a column and boxes to check off. I noticed my name at the bottom. It was the only one without a check under the "Step One" column (gee, maybe because I _wasn't gay_). Pie Eater pointed to the poster like he thought that I hadn't seen it. I had a hunch that this guy wasn't too bright. A likable kid, but not the sharpest tool in the shed. "See? We all completed Step One yesterday. So, we got our uniforms instead of those grey things." He shuddered. "Kind of look like prison clothes, huh?"

"Yeah, and that uniform makes you look like one of the Von Trapp children," I muttered to myself. We continued away from the "V.I.P Dorm," as David had called it.

"We're not allowed in the V.I.P Dorm unless we're going to the Screening Room on the second floor," Pie Eater said solemnly. "We get in _big_ trouble if we're in there without permission." His smile reappeared so suddenly, it was almost like it'd always been there. "That's the girls' dorm," he said, pointing at the large pink building on the other side of the V.I.P Dorm. "You'll meet the girls later on. And, erm..." He looked a little nervous. "If Slosh doesn't have her Lortab... watch out for her."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Lortab?"

"It's liquid Vicodin," he whispered. "She's nuts without it. And I can't even _start_ to explain Colleen and Maureen to you. I'd better let Miss Medda do it." He nodded to himself and resumed his walk towards the large blue building. "This is our dorm," he said proudly as he opened the door. I stepped inside and found myself inside of a small foyer. It was blue. _Everything_ was blue. The wallpaper, the rug, even the carpet on the stairs. Everything was the same shade of light blue. He beamed at me and led me through a door on the right.

It was a huge room with five beds. They were nice beds, actually. A nice room, too. Except, once again, _everything_ was blue.

"They really believe in color therapy here, don't they?" Pie Eater shrugged helplessly.

"Guess so. You get used to it. You're in this room with Snitch, Skittery, Racetrack, and Spot. But be careful that you don't get caught doing anything... _inappropriate_." I raised an eyebrow at the nicknames and raised the other when he finished his sentence.

"What? You mean 'inappropriate' like... what, cursing? Or beating the crap out of each other?"

"No, he means 'inappropriate' like fucking another guy, you dumb shit."

Apparently, there was someone else in the room. I glanced at the last bed with a frown. The person lying on said bed ground out his cigarette on a nearby night stand and sat up. He was pretty short with dark hair and eyes. But he was one of those short guys that could stand up for himself and wouldn't take anybody else's crap. I could _feel_ it. 

Pie Eater visibly tensed.

"H-Hiya, Racetrack! Didn't see you there."

"No shit." This "Racetrack" guy eyed me warily. "You must be the new kid."

"I guess you could call me that."

"Ah. Nice to meet you." Even if Pie Eater was too dense to tell that Racetrack was being sarcastic, I definitely wasn't.

That Racetrack guy didn't like me.

And you know? I didn't really care. That was the least of my worries.

I decided to focus on how the hell I was going to convince these people that I was straight and get back to school with my dignity more or less intact.

But before that...

I had a "group introduction session" to attend.

Shoot me. Please.

****

End Chapter One

That... that was _absolute_ crap. I apologize to anyone who had to read that part. But, whatever. *shrugs* Once I get more characters in, it'll get better. The students of True Directions show up in the next chapter! It'll be fun. *grins* Normally, I'd do shout-outs, but I'm exhausted just from writing this goofy, semi-incoherent chapter. *sighs* I'll do 'em next time. Reviews would be looooooverly! Even though this chapter sucked.... I need new muses.... *grumbles* Ah, well. *bounces off*


	3. Chapter Two: Introductions

*eye twitch* Things have NOT been going well lately... First, FF.net decides to randomly remove the first story that I ever wrote after it's been done for... I don't know, FOREVER. Then, my computer decides to EAT this chapter after I'd already finished writing the damn thing. So, yeah. Anyway, how was your day? *sweet smile* Okay, onto chapter two. Things start getting good here. I think... *shrugs* *grins* The other students at True Directions are introduced! Friendships are formed! Enemies are made! Medda spontaneously combusts! Or not... ^_^

Disclaimers: I don't own _Newsies_. Disney does. I don't own these characters. Their creators do. Nice and short. ^_^

Warnings: Language, eventual slash, probably femslash as well

-- Thanks to Janel, my wonderful, beautiful, perfect beta. I adore you, darlin', even though you never update. ^_^ --

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But I'm a Prep!

Chapter Two

I stared blankly at Medda.

"Please tell me you're joking," I begged. She just smiled her disgustingly perfect smile and pointed at the lumpy, grey chair in front of me. I finally sighed in defeat. "Fine, we'll do it your way," I muttered to myself. Reluctantly, I reached forward and untied the bright red ribbon around the chair. The semi-circle of teenagers surrounding said chair broke out into applause.

I pondered the significance of such a stupid act as I plopped down into the chair and faced the other students.

"Now, everyone," Medda began. "This is Isaac, your new classmate. I'd like you all to make him feel at home. Why don't you all introduce yourselves?" She beamed. "Who wants to go first?"

Nobody moved. Can't blame them, really.

Medda sighed.

"Fine. We'll just have to start at this end of the circle and go around. Now, you already know Ewan." Pie Eater grinned at me and popped part of a Hershey bar into his mouth. "Who's next?"

"I guess that'd be me." I turned my attention to a girl with long, dark hair and bright green eyes. She stood up, and I got a clear view of her light pink blouse and dark pink skirt. I had to fight down the urge to projectile vomit all over the place when I realized that every single girl in the room had on the same outfit.

I wanted to cry. Or at least see a color that _wasn't_ pink or blue.

"I'm Alicia Knolls," the girl said with a smile. "People tend to call me Chaser because-"

"Because she's a skirt chaser!" someone shrieked.

"Shut up, Speed. Anyway, yeah. I guess I _am_ kind of a skirt chaser." Chaser grinned evilly. "_And_ a pants chaser."

"No such expression!"

"Shut _up_, Speed."

"Alicia, Janel, stop bickering." Medda leaned forward in her chair and raised an eyebrow. "And you're a _what_, Alicia?" Chaser sighed.

"And I'm a homosexual," she muttered. "Well, bisexual, really. Fine, fine, I'm a homosexual!" she said quickly, taking note of the death glare that Medda was shooting in her direction.

"Thank you, Alicia. Next!"

It was a boy this time. He was kinda tall with dark hair and eyes. And his teeth were sort of... well, huge.

"Uh, hi! I'm Damien Baxter. They call me Snitch 'cause... well, I'm a bit of a klepto." He turned red. "And, erm... I'm a h-homosexual." He sat down pretty quickly.

The boy next to him reminded me vaguely of a piece of taffy that had been stretched. He was even taller than Snitch and really thin. What's the word I'm looking for? Gaunt. Yeah, that's it. He was gaunt.

"Jared Sloane. Call me Skittery," he said quietly. He immediately sat back down without even explaining his nickname. Not that he needed to; a complete idiot could see how paranoid this guy was. His eyes kept darting around, never resting on anything for more than a few seconds. Seeking out possible exits, I guess.

Hey, not a bad idea...

I immediately turned my attention to the next girl. She had her shaggy, reddish-brown hair pulled back with a black bandanna.

"The name's Rebecca Notte, but, please, call me Stage." She grinned cheerily. "I'm a theater girl at heart, which is how I got my nickname. And, I..." She paused and clutched at her heart in an exaggerated fashion. "... am a homosexual!" She immediately began crying. Real tears and everything. I was impressed.

Everyone laughed and broke out into applause. Stage gave a huge bow and hopped back into her chair as Medda rolled her eyes.

The next boy got to his feet, still laughing and shaking his head.

"I'm Roger Valentine, but everyone calls me Swifty. Race me, and I'll show you why." His grin took on a slightly evil tint as he exchanged high-fives with the girl next to him. "Oh, yeah, um, I'm a homosexual." The girl by his side practically bounced out of her seat.

"Hiya!" crowed the girl. She was African-American, very pretty, with long, dark hair. She giggled wildly and waved. "I'm Janel Anderson, but people call me Speed, 'cause I talk really fast!"

"No, they call you Speed because you act like you're on speed."

"Shut up, Chaser. Anyway... I am a HOMOSEXUAL! WHEEE!" She hopped back into her chair. I saw Medda roll her eyes and rub her forehead. No doubt this girl was the source of many headaches for her. The next boy stood up.

"I'm Benny D'Angelo," he muttered. I frowned; this guy looked like he was mad at the world. Not to mention the fact that his ears were pierced at least six or seven times. Plus the eyebrow piercing, nose piercing, and what looked like the top of a tattoo sticking out of his Catholic school boy-esque shirt collar. And this kid couldn't have been any older than me. "Call me Itey. 'Cause I'm Italian. And, yeah, I'm a friggin' homosexual." He glared at me once more before taking his seat (A/N: Who's going to hell for doing this to Itey? Yeah, that'd be me. *evil grin*)

"God, Itey, I swear that one day, you're gonna snap and kill everyone," a laid-back, almost lazy voice said.

"Kylea, you're next," Medda said sharply. Obviously this Kylea chick wasn't one of her favorite students.

A girl with pitch-black hair slowly got to her feet. She smiled like there was nothing wrong with the world.

"Kylea Johansen, nice to meet you," she said with a yawn. "I'm known as Slosh. Because I like to get sloshed." She grinned, unhooked a flask from the out-of-place belt around her waist, and took a swig of... well, whatever that stuff was. "Lortab," she explained. She must have caught the "what the hell?" look on my face. "Liquid Vicodin. I just had my wisdom teeth out." She smiled once more, then sat back down with a vacant expression on her face.

The next person was Racetrack.

"We've met," he muttered. Medda shot him a warning glance. He stared right back at her for a few seconds, before sighing in defeat. The little jerk hopped to his feet and plastered on a huge, fake, shitfaced grin. "Dean Higgins. They call me Racetrack because, apparently, I have a bit of a gambling problem. And I like to fuck boys." The fake smile disappeared and he collapsed back into his chair. I fought back the urge to punch the little snot in the face.

"Dean, language," Medda warned. She turned her gaze to the last person in the room, a short, slightly chubby girl with long, wavy, light brown hair and glasses.

"Erm, hi," she said quietly with an embarrassed smile. "I'm Colleen and-" Suddenly, everything about her just _changed_. I can't really explain it. It's just that, all of a sudden, everything about her was different. Her voice, the way she was standing, hell, even the _vibes_ she gave off were different. "Look, just shut up, okay? They're not here to talk about you; you're _straight_." The meek expression returned. "I was just trying to-" And, away it went. "Ignore her." The girl smirked and removed her glasses. "I'm Maureen, I'm a homosexual, and chances are, I'm not going to like you." She smirked again and sat down, her arms folded in what was _clearly_ a challenge.

But I was more worried about the fact that she was arguing with herself than the fact that she challenged me.

"Colleen has Multiple Personality Disorder," Medda explained quickly. "But she's not dangerous."

"Ah," was all I could say. Hey, it isn't every day that you meet an actual schizo.

"Well," Medda said cheerfully. "That's..." She frowned suddenly. "We're missing people." The crazy broad performed a quick head count. "Where is everyone?"

Quite suddenly, the faint strains of a clarinet floated through the room.

Everyone stiffened as Medda frowned and yanked open one of the Training Building's massive window. Even though my view was partially obstructed by Medda's eye-meltingly bright pink outfit (A/N: It's come to my attention that "meltingly" is not a word. It is now. ^_^), I could still see what was going on.

A few kids were lounging around in what appeared to be a garden. You know, hedges and little trees and flowers and fountains. That kind of stuff. A girl with dark brown hair and glasses was sitting on a stone bench playing some kind of jazzy tune on a clarinet. Another girl, this one with short red hair and blond streaks, stood next to her, scatting and snapping her fingers. A starry-eyed guy sat under one of the trees and stared off into space, obviously thinking hard about something... or someone. The girl next to him was whistling softly and carefully brushing her long, dark hair. Another girl with thick glasses and a wild grin was wandering around aimlessly and twitching.

And in the center of everything, a boy and a girl were dancing.

And, _damn_, they could dance.

The boy was short with blond hair and a mischievous smirk. He had to stand on his tiptoes in order to spin the girl under his arm. Said girl, from what I could see, was pretty stocky, but not in a bad way. She twirled once more, pushed her short, dark hair out of her eyes, and jumped directly into a lively jitterbug.

It was the coolest thing I'd ever seen.

But, apparently, Medda didn't think so.

Stupid bitch.

"Kent! Amanda!" she barked. The girl under the tree looked at Medda with wide, frightened green eyes. She quickly poked the boy, who was still off in his own little world. He blinked and focused on the pissy ball of pink. "What are you doing out there?! Do you know what time it is?!" The girl (who was _really_ pretty, by the way) blinked in surprise and looked at her watch. She gasped.

"Oh, no, the introduction session! Heels!" she yelled. "Heels, Spot! Knock it off, you guys!" The boy and the girl immediately stopped dancing, and the clarinet died away. "Miss Medda, we are _so_ sorry! We lost track of time! Oh, my God, I am so, so, sososo sorry!"

You know how some people just reeeeally know how to suck up to teachers? How there are some kids who can just milk adults for everything that they're worth? Kids who can manipulate just about anyone that they want by pretending to be an innocent, little nobody?

Well, this girl wasn't one of them.

I don't know how I knew, but I _knew_, just by looking at her, that she really was that sweet.

And that kinda scared me.

Medda sighed.

"It's all right, Amanda. I understand. Just get everyone inside."

They didn't even bother to go around; everyone just climbed through the window. Hey, we were on the first floor. It's not like they had to put out a whole hell of a lot of effort.

"I apologize for my students' tardiness, Isaac," Medda said, glaring at the teenagers. "Introduce yourselves _quickly_, and we can get on to helping this boy through Step One."

Step One? Huh?

Oh, yeah.

I'd kind of forgotten why I was there.

There was a short pause before the blond boy stepped forward. He grinned at me and kind of looked me over.

"New kid, huh? Ooh, and you're a _cute_ one, too!" He didn't even flinch when Medda shot him a death glare. Gotta give him credit for that. If that crazy chick would have glared at _me_ like that, I probably would have melted into a little puddle. Hell, she was scary enough when she was _happy_, what with her psycho, frizz bomb, _Flashdance_-esque hair and way-too-white teeth. Anyway, back to the boy. "Paul Conlon, but people call me Spot."

"'Cause you're so short," the girl with the clarinet chimed in.

"Oh, shut your trap, you stupid bitch," he mumbled affectionately. Spot smiled at me before placing his hands on his hips and sticking his tongue out at Medda's back.

It suddenly occurred to me that I'd just met my first-ever "flamer," as my mother like to call them (A/N: Blink is sheltered! ^_^;;;)

The girl with the clarinet stepped forward, playfully poking Spot in the ribs as she went.

"Salutations, new kid!" She beamed at me. "I'm Ashleigh Bennett, but they call my Mayfly." The tall, pale girl with the short, red hair snickered wildly. "It's... kind of a long story." She turned red. "Anyway, this here is Delilah." She gestured to her clarinet before biting the snickering girl on the arm.

"The name's Elizabeth Marlette," the red-haired girl stated, flashing me a peace sign (she didn't even look _slightly_ freaked out by the fact that she'd just been bitten). "Better known as Bebop, for obvious reasons." I remembered that she'd been the one scatting. Bebop grinned at me, cracked her knuckles, and glanced at the boy next to her.

"Erm, hey. I'm Kent Navarro. Everybody calls me Bumlets." He blushed as the entire room (minus Racetrack) exploded with laughter. Even Itey let out a kind of scary-sounding "heheheheh" laugh. "It's... well, it's a long story, too... Heels, you go." The dancing girl rolled her eyes and smirked.

"Rafferty Madison, but call me Heels since, as I'm _sure_ you've noticed, I dance." She eyed me warily and fingered the silver pentacle around her neck as the pretty girl stepped forward with an angelic smile.

"Hi! My name is Amanda Pelligrino. Everyone just calls me Mandy." She smiled serenely as Heels started to meticulously braid her hair with the kind of focus that people would probably reserve for final exams and Jedi mind tricks (A/N: Wow... that line is _so_ random... *shrugs* Dunno where that came from).

"Call me Q, because it's like WHAM when Sean Connery comes through with the BOOM and the SPLAT and you're like, DUDE! And then the pizza just EXPLODES!"

I stared blankly at the girl with the massively thick glasses as she bounced around the room, babbling incessantly.

"That's _____ Quimby," Bumlets started to explain (hey, I'd tell you her name, but I've been sworn to secrecy). The girl immediately stopped bouncing.

"_Ex-nay on the irst-fay ame-nay!_" she hissed.

"Sorry, Q!" The girl immediately beamed and twitched.

"It's okay. None of us actually understand what the hell she's talking about," Stage said amiably.

They all stared at me.

"Oh, erm... I'm Isaac Cliffton, but my friends call me Kid Blink. Usually just Blink. You know, because of my eye." Slosh leaned forward to examine me.

"Did you lose it in an accident?" she asked calmly. Medda gasped and started to sputter.

"KYLEA! That's not something that you ask someone!"

"No, really, it's okay," I said. Because, surprising as it may sound, it was. I mean, it's not like she was mean about it or anything. Slosh just seemed like a really blunt person. Besides, I'm not particularly sensitive about my eye. People never really tend to dwell on it, so it doesn't bother me. "I was born blind in this eye, and it's kind of a weird color. That's why I wear this," I explained, gesturing to my patch. "It used to freak people out." Slosh nodded and sat back, satisfied. "Anyway. Uh... I don't really know why I'm here. I'm not gay."

They all stared at me again. Pie Eater and Swifty exchanged looks while Speed, Bebop, Mayfly, and Spot all giggled.

"That's what the _all_ say," Maureen stated with a bored yawn. I glared. Stupid lesbian schizo. "Look, pal, if you weren't a homo, you wouldn't be here." She blinked suddenly. "Maureen, I really don't think that you should say things like that." "Bugger _off_, Colleen!" "No! I'm tired of taking orders from you, and I won't put up with it any more!"

Medda cleared her throat nervously and pressed a button on a small black box attached to the arm of her chair - an intercom. She spoke into it for a few seconds as Colleen and Maureen continued to argue.

A few seconds later, Ireland and Mush busted in and led Colleen/Maureen out of the door.

"They argue like that every now and then," Mandy explained quietly. "I feel so bad for them." Heels looked like she was about ready to murder anyone who would even _think_ of making Mandy feel bad. It was kind of cute, really.

"Well, back to the problem at hand!" Medda smiled cheerfully and gestured to me. "Isaac, we've got to find a way to break through this... _wall_ that you've set up. Let's see... what can we do?" She tapped a perfectly manicured fingernail against her lips. "Well, Isaac, what kind of posters do you have in your room.

I raised an eyebrow. The _hell_?

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You'd be surprised," Snitch replied, grinning. I sighed and sat back to think.

"Ummm... let's see. I've got Bright Eyes, Me First and the Gimme Gimmes-"

"I LOVE Me First and the Gimme Gimmes!" Bebop and Mayfly shrieked. I grinned.

"Yeah, they rock."

"Don't they do covers of musical theater songs?" Stage questioned.

"Well... yeah."

"Oh, come _on_! And you still think you're straight?" Heels let out a short, harsh laugh. I glared at her.

"My mom's an _actress_!"

"You think that matters?" Skittery asked quietly.

"Listening to Me First and the Gimme Gimmes doesn't make me gay!"

"No, but it doesn't make you straight, either." Snitch let out a cackle. Yes, a cackle. That's the only word that even _remotely_ describes Snitch's laugh.

"Let's try something else," Medda said. "What's your favorite fruit, Isaac?"

I'd long ago figured out that this woman wasn't quite right in the head. Now, I was pretty sure that she was absolutely insane. Like, "get this girl some meds and find out what size straightjacket she wears" insane. Then again, so was Q.

I decided to play her little game.

"Erm... I don't know. Bananas, I guess."

Everyone snickered.

"Blink, my friend, you're gayer than I am," Spot stated matter-of-factly.

"Nobody's gayer than you, Spot."

"Thank you for the affirmation, Mayfly."

"Why exactly do bananas make me gay?"

Everyone stared blankly at me.

"You were a very sheltered child, weren't you?" Slosh asked. "Think about it."

I thought.

And then it hit me.

"Phallic symbols," Itey said with a slightly evil grin.

I just stared blankly ahead.

"You're all freaks," I stated calmly. "Every last one of you is a perverted freak, seething with sexual innuendoes."

"Ooh, big words," Chaser muttered.

"Our freakiness factor has nothing to do with anything," Stage said with a cheerful smile. "You're gay. Admit it."

Must... not... strangle... crazy girl...

"I am _not_ gay," I repeated for the umpteenth time. "I have a girlfriend!"

They were all quiet.

Ha! Eat that!

"Oh..." Pie Eater mumbled. "Oh... well, did you... you know... did you ever..." He turned bright red and looked at the ground.

"Didja fuck her?" Racetrack finished.

"Dean! _Language_!" I glared at him. Jerk.

"She's a _Christian_." Heels' expression darkened at that comment. Q stopped twitching for a few seconds to grin at me.

"Well, let's just say, hypothetically, that she wasn't. Would you do it?"

I blinked.

"Well... yeah, sure." They all caught my hesitation, though. To tell you the truth, I don't know why I hesitated. I mean, I'm a heterosexual seventeen-year-old boy. Naked females are a welcome apparition in my mind.

So why didn't I feel anything when I thought about having sex with Zooey?

Or any other girl, for that matter?

Snitch smiled broadly and leaned in.

"So, you're saying that you never looked at another guy and thought, 'damn, he's hot.' Right?" I swallowed nervously and looked from person to person.

"Well, I... I know when another guy is better looking than me." Snitch shook his head.

"That's not what I mean. Let's say.... let's say that-"

"Let's say that Bumlets here was to parade around naked in front of you," Itey offered with another one of the evil grins that I'd come to associate with him. The girls laughed hysterically, the boys tried not to, and Spot waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"I'm all for it," he said, licking his lips. Bumlets turned bright red.

Actually, so did I.

"Okay, let's say that Bumlets was naked-"

"And covered in chocolate!" Swifty yelled. More laughter. Snitch rolled his eyes.

"Okay, covered in chocolate-"

"And dancing to that 'I'm too sexy for my shirt' song!"

"We're not discussing your wet dreams, Swifty!" Speed crowed.

"Can we _not_ talk about me being naked?"

"AS I WAS SAYING!" Snitch yelled as the room exploded with more laughter. Swifty and Speed swatted playfully at one another. Medda didn't look like she approved of our current topic.

And what was I doing at this point?

I think I was trying to keep my face from bursting into flame. I swear, I must have been as red as the Rocky Horror lips.

"So, yeah. Bumlets naked. What would you do?" Snitch asked.

"Look, I-"

"Just humor us and think about it!" Bebop yelled. Mayfly pointed her clarinet menacingly at me.

I decided to do it.

For probably the first time in my life, I sat back and thought about another guy.

And you know, it didn't totally gross me out like I thought it would.

As a matter of fact...

It was actually... kinda nice...

I turned, if possible, redder.

The girls' grins, if possible, grew. Especially Stage. God, she looked like she'd just won the lottery.

"Well, every guy looks at other guys every now and then, right?" I laughed nervously. "That doesn't mean anything! All guys look at each other, all the time!"

"Yes, but you only assume that _they're_ thinking what _you're_ thinking when they do it," Skittery explained.

My mouth opened and closed. There was nothing I could say.

"So... so you... you're saying... No. No, way." I let loose another nervous laugh. "I can't be... I'm not like you guys! I'm not! I mean... I've got a girlfriend!"

"So you've said," Chaser replied, picking idly at her fingernails.

"I... I get good grades!"

"Irrelevant!" Speed chimed.

"I... I'M A FUCKING PREP!"

"I don't think that your high school stereotype has anything to do with your sexual orientation," Racetrack muttered.

I suddenly started piecing things together.

How much I hated kissing Zooey...

The fact that I _didn't_ have pictures of scantily-clad women everywhere...

How I insisted on watching football, even though I didn't really like the game...

Everything suddenly made sense.

"I'm a homosexual." At first, I didn't realize that I'd said it out loud. Not until I saw the shocked looks on everyone's faces. Medda practically jumped out of her seat.

"What was that?"

"I... I'm a homosexual. I'm a homosexual! Holy shit, I'm a homosexual!"

I didn't even hear the thunderous applause or the "woo!" from Pie Eater's side of the room.

I was too busy trying to convince myself that I wasn't really gay. That I'd only said that to get Medda and her little band of freaks off of my back.

But I knew that I hadn't.

I really was gay.

And I think I'd always known. You know how sometimes, if you try hard enough, you can just completely forget something? Like a childhood trauma or something? Well, I think that I'd made myself forget that I was gay. Don't ask me how.

I stared blankly ahead with my jaw scraping the floor as the girls surged forward to hug me (well, the girls minus Heels; she didn't seem like the kind of person who likes to get all up close and personal). What else could I do?

I did manage to glance up at Medda and not hurl on her as she dropped one of the Von Trapp children uniforms into my lap. I was pretty proud of myself for that.

"Congratulations, Isaac! You've completed Step One!" She smiled brightly at me before turning her attention to the others. "Okay, kids, lights out! We'll start on Step Two tomorrow!" She immediately left the room, followed by what sounded like a pack of chattering monkeys and rabid hyenas.

And I just sat there, staring. There really wasn't anything else that I could do.

Racetrack calmly stepped forward and closed my mouth.

"You were attracting flies," he said conversationally. With a smirk, he popped a cigarette into his mouth and walked out of the room.

I just glared at his back and trudged towards the boys' dorm.

I had a feeling that today was kind of like a bad sunburn. 

I didn't notice anything different now...

But,_ shit_, I was going to feel it in the morning.

****

End Chapter Two

Well, from what I remember, it was a lot funnier the first time I wrote it. *frowns* But I can't remember what I wrote! *sighs* The only things I remember are the sunburn simile, and the part about Bumlets being naked, covered in chocolate, and dancing to that Right Said Fred song. Of course I'd remember _that_. *evil grin* I apologize for making Itey all goth. Wait... no, I don't. Because it's REALLY fun. *grins* Anyway. Sorry if I dumped too much info on everyone, but I couldn't figure out a way to divide it up anymore. *shrugs* Well. Next time, the kids start on Step Two: Rediscovering Your Sexual Identity! It'll be fun. And there will be slashiness! Kinda.... Well! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far!

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SHOUT-OUTS!

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Sureshot Higgins: w00t, w00t! Glad you like it! _But I'm a Cheerleader_ is definitely in my top five favorite movies of all time. Along with _Newsies_, _All Over the Guy_, _Dead Poets' Society_, and every Mel Brooks movie ever made. ^_^ WHEEE!

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Ireland: Aw, thanks! ^_^ Come on, you didn't think I'd leave Blink straight for too long, did you? *grins* And, yes, you look like you stepped out of _YM_. That was my mental image when I read your CC: walking around in a field with a prom dress on or something like they do in those goofy teen magazine ads. ^_^ Thanks for reviewing!

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Cerri: Yes, Blink's family is semi-normal. Of all the families I've made up for the boys, Blink's is my favorite. Well, his family and Skittery's family. And Mush's family. But both of them make me sad. *sniffles* Anyway... thanks for the review!

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Birdy: _But I'm a Cheerleader_ was absolutely hysterical. I can't believe nobody's done a _Newsies_ parody of it yet. Not one that I know of, anyway. The only one I've seen is a Harry Potter fic called "But I'm a Slytherin," which was also really funny. ^_^ Anyway, thanks for reviewing!

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Tabloid: Hey, we've done crazier things to the newsies! *coughs in Stage's general direction*MalevolentSins*coughs again* YES! Too bad for Blink! *cackles madly* And I just want to say that I ADORE writing Chaser. I have big plans for her... *cackles*

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Stage: *grins* Thought you would. You and your silly Specs/Dutchy-ness! *beams* *huggles* I love me some Stage! *huggles again* ^_^

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Frogger No Baka: Love the name, by the way. *grins* Yes! You MUST see _But I'm a Cheerleader_! SO FUNNY! *dies* Thanks for reviewing!

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Cake Eater: I think I neglected to tell you that you're the only person I know of who's as random as I am. *grins wildly* I loved reading your CC, and I love Q. And, yes, _But I'm a Cheerleader_ is QUITE hysterical. Under most circumstances, David Jacobs and RuPaul shouldn't mix, but it fit SO well in this case! I had to do it! Besides, how else was I gonna get some Davey/Mush in there? *cackles and runs in a circle*

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Krispy-kun: Tankies, darlin'. Slosh is quite a funny little girl. She makes me smile. So do you. *hugs* XD

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Checkmate (Tiger): Actually, there's a reason behind that. When I read your CC, all I could think of was Farfarello from the anime Weiß Kreuz. And he's crazy. And cuts himself. ^_^;;; Thanks for being such a good sport! And you come back later. With actual lines this time! YAY!

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i stalk nez: FF.net cut off part of your review, so I'm gonna comment on what I see. I used to love that song. I was obsessed with it for... forever. *grins* And, yes, Bright Eyes rocks. A lot. I luffle Connor Oberst. Thanks for reviewing, even though FF.net was shtoopid! Yes, shtoopid. *beams*

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Rage Aomori: I gotta be hard on myself, though! If I'm not, everything'll suck! *cries* And I really wasn't happy with that part. Not really happy with this part, but, whatever. *shrugs* I'll deal. SYANKUU! *tackle glomps*

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Seraph: Well, thanks! *feels all special and whatnot* Poor Blink will have to go through several chapters of emotional torture. YAY! EMOTIONAL TORTURE! *dances* Thanks for the review!

Well, that's about it. Now that the introductions and boring things are out of the way, we can get on to the fun stuff! *grins* *pulls out pocket watch* *swings it* You will review... you will review... *cackles*


	4. Chapter Three: Games, Roots, Flashcards

*waves* Hiya, everyone! GOD, I love writing this stupid, little thing! *beams* Welcome to Step Two, kids! *cackles* Poor Blink... why do I always torture my favorite characters? 

Spot: Ya haven't tortured me yet.

Well...

Skittery: Or me.

Erm....

Dutchy: Or me.

Uh....

Itey: Or me.

Hey, I made you freakishly goth, didn't I?!

Itey: ... true.

Sheesh! Anyway... enjoy!

Disclaimers: Sita does not own any characters, with the exception of Mayfly. All other characters are property of their creators.

#This chapter is dedicated to Tabloid, who keeps making me write. And who taught me how to play Mafia. And who is amused by eggrolls.#

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But I'm a Prep!

Chapter Three

You're still here?

Wow. I'm proud that someone actually cares about us enough to pay attention to my little story.

Anyway. I want you to keep something in mind. As soon as I got to the dorm, I had a freak-out session. A _major_ one. I completely spazzed out and started screaming about how I wasn't gay. I think I managed to sock Racetrack in the mouth when I was flailing around, which is the only good thing about it.

And then, a few seconds later, it stopped, and nobody's mentioned it since.

Why am I telling you this?

So that you don't think I'm totally okay with this. Because I'm _not_. I don't _want_ to be gay, I don't _want_ to be here. I don't.

But I know that this is my only hope for getting straight again. So, I'm gonna stick through it.

But I'm also not going to tell you exactly what went on in said freak-out session.

Hey, I don't have much dignity left, but I want to save the few threads that I _do_ have.

*~*~*

I literally gagged as I struggled into my long, silky blue pajamas. I _gagged_.

"Don't worry. The gag reflex wears down after a while," Spot said airily as he traipsed around the room with a comb and a bottle of conditioner. He turned to me and grinned evilly. "Want me to help it on its way?"

"You are _sick_, Spot," Skittery said with a tiny smile. I rolled my eyes and hopped into my bed.

"You're not going to sleep already, are ya, dude?" Snitch asked, frowning. I shrugged.

"Well, aren't they gonna come by and make sure we're in bed?" The other four boys snickered.

"Nah. Medda wouldn't deign herself to do it, David's too busy ogling Mush, and Ireland's on our side," Snitch said, waving his hand dismissively.

"Oh. Well, that's-" I stopped in mid-sentence. "Wait... what about David and Mush?" Spot grinned evilly.

"You probably haven't noticed yet, but they've got a _thing_ for each other." He "tsk-ed" quietly. "It's too bad that Mush's aunt is the biggest homophobe since Hitler, and Davey's still trying to convince himself that he's not gay any more. They'd make _such_ a cute couple."

I sat upright in my bed.

"But.... but David went through this program, didn't he?" Spot raised one of his carefully-plucked eyebrows.

"Yeah... and your point?" I stared at him. The whole _point_ of this concentration camp was to get hetero.

They laughed when I expressed this.

"Blink, this stupid camp doesn't work," Racetrack said, rolling over to face us for the first time. "You can't change who you are."

I suddenly felt like a five-year-old.

"But... but..." I stuttered. No... it had to work! It was going to be bad enough going back to school after this. If I went back, and I was still gay... oh, God, I'd never hear the end of it. Smartass would have it all over the _Herald_ before I could say... I dunno. Something that wouldn't take a very long time to say.

I'm not good at analogies.

"Aw, look, I think we made the poor baby cry."

"Shut up, Race. You don't have to be such a jerk to the guy."

"Go screw yourself, Snitch."

"You don't have to be a jerk to me, either!"

A tap at the window turned our attention away from what could have been a reasonably nasty argument.

"They're here," Spot said with a grin. He skipped (yes, skipped) over to the window and yanked it open.

Mayfly immediately stuck her head in and grinned.

"Didja miss us?"

"OW! Mayfly, ya fat whore, you stepped on my hand!"

"Oh, shut up, Chaser."

"Yeah, shut up, Chaser!"

"Shut up, Speed!"

"Why don't both of you shut up?"

"Shut up, Stage!" all three girls retorted.

"Ah, the close bond of sisterhood," Skittery murmured from somewhere behind me.

I blinked in surprise as the four aforementioned females scrabbled into our room, attired in matching very long, very frilly, very _pink_ nightgowns.

"I don't think I'm ever gonna get used to this stupid thing," Speed mutter, unhappily plucking at her frills.

"Stop whining."

"Oh, shut up, Chaser!"

"Can you guys _not_ do that for two seconds?" Racetrack muttered, rolling his eyes.

Mayfly dove across the floor and grabbed on to Spot's leg.

"Tell me you love me!" she demanded. Spot rolled his eyes.

"I _don't_ love you. It's all about the sex, remember?" Mayfly fell backwards into a sitting position.

"Damn," she muttered and tried to snap. "Damn!" she repeated, making the snapping motion.

"You can't snap?" Speed questioned, awe-struck.

"No, I can't snap."

"Everyone point and laugh at Mayfly!" Chaser called gleefully.

So they did.

And I couldn't help but laugh.

"Whadda ya know, da new kid don't look like he's gonna run away, screamin'!" Stage crowed, suddenly slipping into a very accurate New York accent.

"You're not scared of us?" Speed asked. She stuck her face a few inches from mine and blinked.

I blinked back.

"Er... not really... should I be?"

"BOW BEFORE ME! FOR I AM THE DONKEY QUEEEEEN!"

"Ooookay... little scared of Mayfly..."

"I think it's gonna take a lot more than your usual insanity to scare this kid," Snitch said with a grin as he plopped down on to the floor next to Stage.

"Enough screwing around. What're we going to play?" Chaser asked.

"Where is everyone?" Racetrack muttered.

"Well, Colleen and Maureen can't come, naturally..." Speed began.

"Mandy wasn't feeling well, and Heels decided to stay with her. They're so CUTE!" Mayfly squealed.

"Last time I checked, Q said something about shaving a squirrel," Chaser added.

"And Slosh and Bebop were babbling about... something... with big words..." Stage muttered.

"Communism and asexuality," Speed supplied. Everyone stared at her. "What? I'm not the airhead that I look like."

"Yeah, you are."

"Shut up, Chaser."

"Shut up-"

"Okay, that gets _really_ old, _really_ fast," Racetrack cut in. He slapped a deck of cards down into the middle of the circle that we'd formed. "We're playing Mafia."

"Who died and made you God?"

"Shut up, Snitch."

"Shut up, Racetrack."

"They've been hanging around us too long," Chaser whispered conspiratorially. Speed nodded.

I just kind of stared.

"I think Blink's confuzzled," Mayfly informed everyone.

"'Confuzzled' isn't a word," Spot said.

"It is now!"

Silence.

"You have problems," Spot said, gently patting her on the back.

"Last night, there was a big storm. Since Bebop's afraid of lightning, most of the girls snuck over here," Skittery explained quietly. He settled himself on the ground in between Snitch and Spot. "We stayed up most of the night playing 'I Never.' We agreed to meet in here every night and just talk and play games." He shrugged. "We need _some_ normality in this hellhole."

"You know, Bebop would kill you if she heard you talking about her fear of lightning," Stage warned.

"She ran over here crying like a baby. What else am I supposed to say?" the tall boy replied, matter-of-factly.

I raised an eyebrow.

Okay, new opinion of Skittery: quiet, but he won't take crap from anyone.

I'll have to make a mental note of that.

"Why don't we play blackjack instead?" Racetrack asked, grinning evilly and shuffling the deck.

"NO!" came the resounding reply.

"You think we're stupid, Race?" Snitch scoffed.

"You really want me to answer that?"

"Okay, enough of that!" Chaser cut in cheerily. "I'm narrator!"

"No, _I'm_ narrator!" Spot contradicted.

"Why don't we let Blink be narrator?" Skittery suggested. Everyone stared at me.

"Oh, er... okay," I stated with a grin. It'd been a while since I played Mafia, but I usually turned out to be a pretty good narrator.

"Okay. Spades are the Mafia, heart's the doctor, diamond's the sheriff, and clubs are the townspeople," Race said quickly, reminding me vaguely of an auctioneer. He slapped the deck back down in the middle of the circle and glared at me.

God, what'd I ever do to _him_?

"Is everybody ready?"

"Stick a fork in me, 'cause I'm done!" Speed chirped happily.

"Shut up, Speed."

"On with the game!" I yelled before another Speed-Chaser brawl could begin. Everyone looked at me and grinned. Spot even applauded lightly. "Everyone, go to sleep." I glanced quickly around the room as everyone put their heads down. "Mafia, wake up." Spot and Skittery lifted their heads, looked at each other, and smirked. Skittery immediately pointed at Chaser. Spot nodded, fighting back a snicker. I grinned at them. "Mafia, go to sleep. Doctor, wake up." Mayfly lifted her head, crossed her eyes, and stuck her tongue out at me. I couldn't help but grin at the cheerful psycho. She looked around for a few seconds before pointing at Racetrack. I shook my head. She frowned, tried to snap, and threw her hands up in exasperation. I quickly clapped my hand over my mouth to muffle my snickers. "Doctor, go to sleep. Sheriff, wake up." Stage, who was sitting right next to me, looked up and began to softly hum the _Blazing Saddles_ theme in my ear. I laughed to myself and poked her in the ribs. She knitted her eyebrows before pointing at Snitch. I grinned and shook my head. She sighed.

"Where's Miss Cleo when you need her, _mon_?" she whispered under her breath in a perfect imitation of the Jamaican fortune teller. I rolled my eyes and smirked.

"Okay, Sheriff, go to sleep. Town, wake up." Everyone lifted their heads and immediately began looking suspiciously around the room. I grinned evilly. Now comes the fun part. "All right, one night, in the fine town of Somewheresville-"

"Somewheresville?" Spot interrupted. He shook his head. "Uh-uh, honey. Do you think _this_ body belongs in _Somewheresville_? Make it... Brooklyn." I raised an eyebrow.

"Why Brooklyn?" Spot gasped.

"Brooklyn rocks!" he cried. "BROOKLYN!" Everyone immediately shushed him as I sighed.

"Fine. So, one night in Brooklyn-"

"BROOKLYYYYYN!"

"Shut up, Spot!" half the room chorused.

"So. One night in Brooklyn, the residents of... Avenue A were awakened-"

"Avenue A's not in Brooklyn."

"Look, I don't know the anatomy of New York! It's not like I ever lived there!" I rolled my eyes. _Jesus_. "Anyway. The residents of some random street in Brooklyn were awakened by a strangled cry. As they ran to investigate, they found Chaser dead in her apartment-"

"I ALWAYS die first," Chaser pouted as everyone laughed.

"She had been stabbed to death. Someone had pushed her backwards onto the knives in the open dishwasher."

"Ooh, that's a good one," Mayfly murmured.

"Why would someone want to kill Chaser?" Speed asked. "I mean, she'll probably be dead of an STD in a few years anyway."

"Shut up, Speed!"  
"Shut up, Chaser!"

"Both of you shut up," Skittery said firmly. "Keep going."

"I think it was Speed," Snitch said with a nod.

"Thanks a lot, Beaver Boy!"

"Who else thinks it was Speed?" I questioned, ignoring Snitch's outraged yell.

Everyone except Race and Spot raised their hand.

"All right then. Speed has now been beheaded with a rusty ax."

"Whatever happened to hanging from the old, oak tree?" I grinned.

"Gotta get with the times."

"How is using a rusty ax to kill someone 'with the times?!'"

Everyone froze at the sound of a soft knock at the door.

"Relax, guys, it's just me." The boys breathed a sigh of relief. Spot jumped to his feet and let in a familiar figure dressed in the same pink nightgown as the other girls - Ireland. "I just wanted to tell you guys that you should probably get to bed. I think Medda might have heard you."

"Maybe we should turn in early tonight," Stage suggested. The girls murmured their agreements. Ireland smiled at us.

"Rock. See you guys tomorrow." She waved and trotted out the door. By the time I turned around, the girls had already said their goodbyes and climbed out of the window.

"I love that girl," Spot said, beaming.

"Who, Ireland?"

"Yeah. If I was straight, I would _so_ go for her." Snitch grinned and nodded. I think I saw Skittery's expression darken at that, but I wasn't sure.

I glanced over at Racetrack. He was sitting on his bed, facing the wall and shuffling his deck of cards.

I decided to talk to him.

"Hey." He looked up at me.

"What?"

"Do you have a problem with me?" Racetrack stared at me like I'd started speaking Japanese.

"What?"

"I said, do you have a problem with me?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"You've been nothing but a jerk to me ever since I got here." He stared at me silently for a few seconds.

"No, I don't have a problem with you," he said finally.

"Then why have you been acting like an ass?"

"Why do you care?" he replied coldly. He turned his attention back to his cards, so I had no choice but to stalk away.

Jerk.

And I was stuck with him for two months.

Greeeeeat....

*~*~*

I twitched.

Early.... too.... early... gaaaah...

"Up and at 'em, Blink!" Snitch chirped, yanking the blankets off of my bed. I slowly sat up. Reluctantly. _Very_ reluctantly. 

Boy with freakish teeth must die.

He will quickly succumb to my power. PH33R /\/\Y /\/\4D P0\/\/3R!

... that's how you know it's early. When you start thinking in L33T.

I sighed to myself and struggled to my feet. Great. Time for another episode of _Hitler In Flashdance Land_. 

"So what are we doing?" I asked, stifling a yawn. Spot playfully smacked Skittery on the butt as he pranced across the room, scrubbing at his hair with a towel.

And, yes, I did say "prance."

Spot never just walks. He always either skips or trots or prances or some other word of the same caliber. You get the picture.

Anyway.

"We move on to Step Two today," Spot informed me. I pulled on my Von Trapp uniform as quickly as I could, but I'm sure I still gave Spot a nice show.

The dirty pervert.

Not that I didn't like him. I liked almost everyone, except for Racetrack. And Heels and Mayfly were a little scary... but, generally, everyone was pretty cool.

But back to the former subject.

"So, what's Step Two?" I asked, straightening my tie and adjusting my eye patch (for a bit, I thought they were going to make me wear a blue patch...).

"'Redsicovering Your Sexual Identity,'" Snitch said, fighting back a snicker as he grabbed a battered, black baseball cap and pulled it on, backwards. I raised an eyebrow.

"What the hell does that mean?" They all looked at each other and shrugged.

"No one knows for sure," Skittery stated. "Swifty says that they're going to make us play sports, and they're going to make the girls clean stuff."

"How does Swifty know?"

"He had a friend who got sent here."

"_Friend_, my ass." I sighed to myself. Racetrack was awake. Goody. Now, my day could truly begin. "It was his boyfriend."

"You don't know that for sure," Skittery said quietly. Race snickered.

"Sure, I do. See, Skitts, you may not know this about me, but I'm good at telling that kind of stuff. I'm good at reading people. It's one of the side-effects of being a gambler; you learn to analyze other people's emotions while hiding your own. That guy was Swifty's boyfriend." He finished by pulling a cigarette out of his sleeve and lighting it. It looked almost comical in his cute, little school boy-ish uniform. "By the way... you should just tell him."

Skittery blinked.

"What do you mean?" Race didn't answer. He just looked slowly, _really_ slowly, over at Snitch, who was humming to himself and tying his shoes, oblivious to our conversation.

Skittery's face turned white.

"I... we should go to breakfast." Skittery turned abruptly around and walked quickly out of the door.

Spot and Race exchanged a look. The former sighed and headed out of the door, while the latter snickered and sucked on his cancer stick (not a big fan of smoking).

I looked around to make sure that Snitch had left (which he had) before saying anything.

"Skittery has a crush on Snitch?" I asked, shocked. Race just looked at me and snorted.

"Of course he does, you dipshit." I bristled, which he chose to ignore. "Open your eyes, and you'd see it."

"Well, I'm sorry. I'm not good at _reading_ people like you are," I sneered. 

Racetrack just looked at me for a few seconds. Just _looked_. You know, it's a little disconcerting to see a guy you've labeled as "that crazy, Italian asshole" actually study you.

"Obviously." He crushed his cigarette and brushed past me without another word.

I glared at his back.

God, what an asshole!

*~*~*

It was ten in the morning. I'd stuffed my face with burnt toast and sour orange juice while wearing a uniform that would make any nun want to adopt me. And now, I was sitting outside on the ground in a circle with a bajillion other gay people and a crazy, red-headed lady who was trying to turn us straight by getting us to talk about our "roots." Whatever the hell that was.

Could life get any better?

"Now, children," Medda began. She beamed at us, and I felt my eyeballs melt. Ooooh, the pain. "We're going to continue to work on our roots, or exactly what caused you to become a homosexual, before we start on Step Two. Now, since Isaac wasn't here the first day, we'll have to give him some examples. How about you, Damien?"

Snitch blinked before standing up and clearing his throat.

"Well, uh... I used to play basketball, since I'm so tall. And, er... I guess... all those team showers, you know?" Medda nodded and Snitch sat down.

"Amanda?"

"Oh, me? Well, I live with my aunt and uncle. My uncle's sort of a workaholic, and he never really paid a whole lot of attention to me," Mandy stated, smiling nervously all the while.

"Surprise, surprise," Heels muttered. "Typical man. If they can't fuck you, there's no _reason_ for them to pay any attention to you."

"_Rafferty_! That's _not_ the kind of attitude we're looking for here!" Heels rolled her eyes.

"Bite me," she muttered under her breath.

"Janel?" Speed stood up, sighed, and scratched her head.

"I really don't think I have one." Medda patted her on the arm.

"Janel, dear, everyone has a root." Speed shot us all a "help me" look before sighing again.

"Well... it's like this. I see a cute guy, and my brain speaks in dots. I see a cute girl, and my brain runs around in circles going, 'ooooooh, prettygirlprettygirlprettygirl!'" We all grinned as Speed beamed in Medda's general direction.

"We'll work on your root, Janel." Medda turned to face me. "So, Isaac, what do you think _your_ root might be?"

I blinked.

"I... I really don't know, to tell you the truth."

"What's the matter, afraid to disclose?" I glared at Racetrack.

"Yeah, well, what's _your_ root?"

"My mother got married in pants," he replied in a mock-serious tone. Any idiot could tell that he was being sarcastic.

Except for one particular idiot, of course. One, Medda Larkson.

She sent a sympathetic look in Race's general direction before looking back at me.

"You are such a moron," Maureen muttered. "You shouldn't say things like-" "What did I tell you about butting in on my conversations?" "They're _my_ conversations, too!"

I sighed. It was _way_ too early for the schizo to be arguing with her self. Medda looked pointedly at Ireland, who had been carefully watering a bed of flowers. Ireland nodded, took Colleen/Maureen gently by the arm, and whispered something to her before leading her... er, _them_... into the Training Building.

"Now, Isaac, I want you to try writing a song."

I raised an eyebrow.

"A song?" I echoed. Medda nodded cheerfully.

"A song or a poem of some sort. Many people express their feelings well through poetry. Make it about how you feel about your experiences here. Try to include God, if you can!"

Ah. God. Yeeeeeah... that guy up there....

"Oh... okay... I can do that." She smiled brightly.

"I know you can. Try to have it for the day after tomorrow." She then addressed the rest of the group. "All right, everyone. It's time to start Step Two: Rediscovering Your Sexual Identity! As all of you know, there are certain roles that men and women play. This Step will help you learn to associate these roles with their appropriate gender. Boys, meet with David in the field in back of the Training Building. Girls, I _was _going to send you with Kathleen, but I suppose that now, I'll just have to take you myself!"

The girls looked mortified.

"What a trade-off," Bebop groaned.

"Follow me, girls!" Medda began a brisk walk towards the Training Building.

"I guess we should get going," Swifty muttered. He grinned and raced off.

Wow. So _that's_ why they called him Swifty.

The rest of us trudged along at a comfortable pace until we reached a semi-long field directly behind the giant green building. I happened to glance through a second-floor window and saw the girls staring blankly at a vacuum cleaner.

In a bright _pink_ room.

Ow. Poor kids.

"Hiya, guys!" David smiled at us and waved with one hand while clutching a football with the other.

"Someone needs to stop shrinking his laundry," Spot muttered in my ear. I snickered. Just like before, David's clothes looked like they belonged on someone a few inches shorter and a few pounds lighter than him.

David just grinned happily and tossed the football from hand to hand.

Idiot.

"Okay, guys. Today, we're gonna be playing the grand, old game of football."

"No shit, Sherlock," Itey hissed under his breath. That kid scared me. Not quite as much as Heels and Colleen/Maureen, but more than Mayfly. So, that's about a seven or an eight on my Freaky Shit-O-Meter.

As if you care.

"Now, let's see... there's an odd number, so I'll be a captain. And..." He scanned the crowd for a minute. "Roger, you can be the other captain." Swifty grinned and stepped forward. "We can pick teams and start!"

So it is written, so it is done.

Hey, _The Ten Commandments_ was my little brother's favorite movie for years.

Anyway. I ended up on Swifty's team, and we started playing. And, believe it or not, we were pretty damn good. Well, Spot wasn't... but everyone else wasn't bad.

Until Mush came along.

And then I realized that they weren't gonna make this thing easy for us.

There he was, dressed in his too-tight shirt and his too-short shorts. And he had a rake.

Sounds sexy so far, right?

Kidding. It was actually just kind of weird.

Until he started doing... erm... _suggestive things_ with said rake. That's really all I can say, lest my face burst into flames.

And let me tell you something. A guy with _that_ kind of body doing _that_ kind of stuff in front of a group of gay, hormone-ridden teenage boys?

_Not_ a good combination for us.

... was Spot groping me?

"Look at yourselves!" We all immediately turned our attention away from the Sex God of Rakes and stared guiltily at a very angry-looking David. Spot smiled sheepishly and took his hand off of my ass.

Oookay....

"You should be ashamed of yourselves! This is _exactly _the kind of behavior we're trying to prevent!" I probably would have been a bit frightened, if David hadn't been sneaking glances at Mush's ass throughout his entire schpiel. Mush grabbed his rake and meandered off, but not before sending a wink in Davey's general direction.

I'm observant; so sue me.

With his love interest gone, David had no choice but to focus solely on us.

"If I _ever_ catch you guys looking at another man like that, you'll be watching sports _all weekend_!"

I felt Spot shudder.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, David," we chorused. David nodded, satisfied.

"Okay. Let's get back to the game."

Thus, Step Two continued.

*~*~*

I don't really think I need to babble any more about what went on; it was pretty boring, except when Maureen had a psycho moment and threw a trash can out of the window... when it was still closed.

I played football with the guys for a couple of hours, listened to David yell, and tried to avoid Spot, who had apparently decided that he hadn't groped me enough before. Took a break for lunch, had some more "root" discussions with Medda, was nearly murdered by Heels when Mandy tripped over me, and switched to playing basketball. Snitch and Skittery kicked everyone's asses. Took a break, ate dinner, and we now found ourselves sitting in a circle around a fake campfire as the sun began to set. Medda smiled brightly.

"All right, everyone. I'm going to pair you up with a partner, and then let you work with these." She held up two sets of cards: one pink set and one blue set. "These will help you to understand the roles that men and women play in society. Quiz each other!"

She started pairing us up.

And guess who I got stuck with?

Racetrack Higgins. Oh, joy. Oh, rapture.

And that's why I was sitting on the ground shoving flash cards of different men in the little asshole's face.

"Okay, what's this one?" I asked, exasperated. Race stared blankly at the card. It was a picture of a guy reclining in a lounge chair, smoking a pipe, and reading a newspaper while a little girl chased a dog at his feet.

"Who cares?" I groaned.

"That's an easy one, Race! It's a father! Look, you're never gonna get straight if you don't understand what roles men play in society!" He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Understand this role shit." I glared at him.

"I'm still working on my root. I actually _want_ to get straight." Racetrack grinned and shook his head.

"Blink, listen to me. This. Does. Not. Work. Okay? We're gay, and we're gonna stay that way, no matter what Medda thinks."

I didn't have anything to say to that. Mostly because I knew that he was right, but I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of letting him know that. He snatched the cards from me.

"Your turn." I looked.

He'd put a picture of a very buff, very good-looking, very _naked_ guy in front of me.

I stared.

Racetrack then chose that point in time to produce a long, black tube with a red light on the end and poke me with it. 

BZZT!

I fell off of the fake tree stump, surprised by the shock I got from the little thing. Race was cracking up.

Dirty bastard.

"Gotta be more prepared for temptation, Blink," he said, grinning wildly. I sent him a glare that could have peeled paint before settling myself back on to the stump.

"What the hell is that thing, anyway?" Race grinned, held up the tube, and pressed a button. The red light lit up, and it made a buzzing noise.

"This is a taser. If you have inappropriate fantasies about guys, you're supposed to shock yourself with it."

My jaw dropped.

"That's _sick_!"

"No pain, no gain. Better get used to it, ya pansy." I glared at him once more before stomping off.

If he wanted to be an asshole, he could. But I wasn't gonna sit there and deal with it.

But, you know, I couldn't help notice that he abruptly stopped laughing when I left. I think he even said something along the lines of, "Aw, come on, Blink."

Maybe there _was_ some humanity under that bastardized front he put up.

..... nah.

****

End Chapter Three

I'll get these notes out of the way as fast as I can, because this thing is already fifteen pages. ^_^ The Mafia game is totally pointless; just trying to establish relationships. I think I've pretty much given away what's going to happen. Even to those who haven't seen the movie probably know. *shrugs and grins* Ah, well. And Spot is hitting on Blink because... well, he hits on everyone. He doesn't particularly have a crush on Blink or anything. He's actually got a boyfriend, as you'll find out later. *evil grin* Anyway. One to shout-outs!

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Stage: Hmmm... Specs/Dutchy... gee, I dunno... *grins wildly* They'll be coming in later, dearheart. I luffle the Stage! *beams and huggles* I don't think I'll _need_ to slash-ify you. Thanks for letting me know, though. *sings "Blazing Saddles"*

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Krispy-kun: Chris, I love you like a fat kid loves cake! *grins wildly* That was on the Big Urban Myth Show last night. "We love myths like a fat kid loves cake!" I was all like, w00t! Krispy-face! But, anyway, darlin', I lurve you and your writing-ness and I still want to molest Bebai. And I think you should have shoved Pyralis and Rokan in the room instead. *cackles*

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Tabloid: *flying tackle glomps* Oh, how I love the Tab. *giggles wildly* You make me smile. Anyway. Keep writing, dearie, because it makes me happy and whatnot. *steals PianoMan!Snoddy and runs off, cackling* DANTEEEEEEEE!

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i stalk nez: Yes, FF.net should be shot in the face, but we all know that. *growls* Anyway. BRIGHT EYES! WHEEE! *huggles Bright Eyes* Tankies for the review!

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geometrygal: I repeat, FF.net should be shot in the face. *sighs* You are forgiven! ^_^ Anyway. Yes, UberGothAndInLoveWithRace!Itey is rather amusing, isn't he? *giggles wildly* Wait... forget the "in love with Race" part! *shifty eyes* Anyway. Gracias for the lurvely review! *beams*

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Shot: FF.net hates me. *sobs* WHYYYYY?! Ah, well. Once again, uber-glad that you're doing the college troupe ficcie. *beams* I'M EXCITED! *cackles* STUPID COLLEGE! *kicks college, too* ... I'm scared of college... though I _did_ get a letter from the College of Santa Fe. I was all excited about that. Ahem. Anyway. Tankies, tankies for reviewing!

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Cake Eater (Q): You know, I don't think that there are any coherent sentences that I can use that can possibly describe how hard I was laughing when I read your review. *grins wildly* I. Adore. You. And your insanity. ESPECIALLY your insanity. Thanks for the review-ness!

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Gothic Author: *sprays with immortality spray* You can't die until I get more "Matchmaker!" *nods stubbornly* Love the new title, by the way. *giggles* Yes, Flamer!Spot is SO fun. *cackles and dances in a circle* I'll loan him to you after the story, if you'd like. Well... he's technically Lute's, since he appeared in "Outkasts" looooong before he came around here... so I'll just rename him FairyQueen!Spot. *cackles* Anyway. Tankies SO much for the loverly review!

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kellyanne: *grins wildly* I love that movie SO much... Natasha Lyone (or however you spell it) isn't exactly a very good actress, but what can you do? XD I think UberGoth!Itey is this fic's official mascot.... maybe I should change his name to BIAP!Itey.... *shrugs and grins* Thanks for reviewing!

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Colleen/Maureen: *huggles* I love me some Colleen. AND WE'RE PLAYING MAFIA ON FRIDAY! I PROMISE! Oooh! You know what we should do one day? While we're warming up, we should all do the Rob face! *cackles* I'm easily amused. Anyway. Reviewing-ness! YAY!

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Dakota-Jones: *grins wildly* Glad you liked it! By the way... your fics? Yeah, they rock. Pretty hard, as a matter of fact. *grins again and dances* Uber-tankies for the beautimus review! *beams*

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Yoko-chan: I'm sorry, what was that? *listens intently* I believe I heard you say something like, "a week" and yet, I see no update. Ah, well. You've been writing _Newsies_ fics, so I'll forgive you. *flying tackle glomps* Have I mentioned how much I luuuuurve you? XD XD XD By the way, tell Meghan to get her arse over here and review. *cackles* *glomps again* Love for the Janel!

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Ireland: *beams proudly* Tankies, tankies! *giggles and dances* MEL BROOKS! YEEEEEAH! Mel Brooks rocks. _Hard_. I'd have to say my favorite is... _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_. Or _The History of the World, Part One_. But _Men in Tights_ is rockin', too. *grins* Syankuu for revieeeeewing!

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Cards: Really? *feels all special* Well, tankies, then! *beams*

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Cerri: Everyone seems to like Flamer!Spot and UberGoth!Itey. I'm glad! *smiles cheerily* YES! InDenial!Blink is no more! *cackles* Thanks for the lovely review-ness!

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Pyromaniacal Llama: GOD, I love your name. *grins* *is poked* I update! *is all proud* Of course, the next update will probably be in, like... five months. *sweatdrop* Well, not that long... but I'm not good with updates, as you can see. Anyway! Tankie-ness for reviewing!

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Frogger No Baka: *glomps* Yes, yes! You MUST see it! ("Shit, Miss Mary, I ain't the only one who don't got no root." "Andre, we don't use profanity or double negatives here at True Directions.") Anyway. *pokes* "DANCE 'TIL I DIE!" WRITE, WRITE, WRITE! *cracks whip* *smiles innocently* Anyway. Syankuu for reviewing and whatnot. *beams*

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Checkmate: *giggles* Glad you enjoyed it! And, yup, actual lines! *beams and dances in a circle* Tankies for the lurvely review-ness! *beams again* 

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hilaRyB: AND MARRY IT YOU SHALL! *nods defiantly* Anyway. *beams* _But I'm a Cheerleader_ is friggin' hysterical. My friend and I rented it, and we ended up watching it five times in two days. It was wonderful. *grins* HornyFlaming!Newsies are always fun. *cackles* Asshorts!Mush... good name for him... *grins* (Asshorts!Mush: *picks wedgie*) .... 'kay. Anyway! Syankuu SO much for the review! *beams*

Well, that's it, guys. Next chappie probably won't be out for a bit. I want to get another chapter of "As the Curtain Falls" out, and _maybe_, if I'm lucky, a chapter of TSIWOTPO. My original fic... crap, forgot about that thing... *frowns* Ah, well. Anyway, hope you enjoy this! *beams and waves* *cough*review*cough*reviewreview*cough*


	5. Chapter Four: Family Therapy

I've been TRYING to write "As the Curtain Falls." Really, I have. But I've gotten so much feedback for this fic, that I've been inspired to write the next chappie (that and I've been watching the movie at least once a day for the past two weeks... *beams*). So. Here is chapter... what chapter are we on? Oh, yeah! Four! And keep in mind that this chapter takes place a week or two after the last one. *cackles and runs off*

Disclaimers: Sita does not own any of the characters mentioned in this chapter except for Mayfly. All original newsies and Medda are property of Disney. Ireland, Chaser, Heels, Mandy, Slosh, Bebop, Colleen/Maureen, Stage, and Speed all belong to their respective owners. ^_^

Warnings: Language, eventual slash and femslash 

#NOTE: I realize that in the prologue I said that Blink's dad is the best lawyer in Manhattan. However, in the last chapter, I said that Blink's never lived in New York. I completely forgot that I wrote that in the prologue... so, in the style of Funkiechick, here is Sita's Really Bad Explanation: Blink's dad, Mr. Cliffton, works in New York because... important people with money live there. But the family lives in a different state. The end. *bows*#

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But I'm a Prep!

Chapter Four

Step Two sucks. A lot.

And do you know WHY Step Two sucks? No, you don't, but I'm _perfectly_ willing to tell you.

Remember that lovely, little session with the flashcards that we had with our partners? Well, Medda recently informed us that whoever we were with then is officially our partner FOR THE REST OF OUR STAY HERE.

I am stuck with Racetrack. _Racetrack_.

Please, God, kill me now.

"All right, guys, get a couple of more pitches in before lights out!" David yelled.

"You throw like a girl," Racetrack scoffed before pitching the baseball back at me.

"Will you just leave me the fuck alone?" I hissed.

"Aren't we touchy tonight?" I hummed the stupid thing at his head. "Now _that_ was a throw, Blink." He smirked and tossed it back. "Try again."

"WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP?!" This time, there were practically flames shooting off of the stupid, little ball when I chucked it in his general direction. It missed Racetrack completely and proceeded to whack David in the side of the head. David then proceeded to slump to the ground.

Ding, dong, the Witch is dead.

Race gaped at me for a few seconds before grinning wildly.

"Nice shot," he said. 

I think it was then that I realized that this was the first time I'd ever really seen him smile sincerely.

So, what else could I do but smile back?

You know, even though Race is a total jerk most of the time... I guess he can be pretty cool every now and then.

*~*~*

"Everyone, get up!"

I blinked blearily and sat up in my bed. It's not like I was gonna get any more sleep; Mush was banging on the door frame and grinning like an idiot.

"Aunt Medda told me to tell you guys to get dressed because you're starting on Step Three today!"

"But we're not done with Step Two yet," Snitch protested through a yawn. Mush shrugged.

"Aunt Medda said that Step Two was a..." He frowned and knitted his brow. "A... a _continuous_ step!"

"Big words for such a small brain," Racetrack muttered. I snickered under my breath.

"That means that you're just gonna keep doing stuff for Step Two while you're going through the other ones."

"We know what 'continuous' means," Race hissed. "We're not all imbeciles like you." Mush glared.

"Don't call me an imbe- ....im-bib-simil!"

"You should be honored," I broke in. "It's French for 'one who thinks quickly, like... like the stride of a cheetah.'" Mush blinked.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Wow... okay!" He beamed and trotted off.

Good puppy.

Race grinned.

"Nice one."

"Thank you." I immediately began groping around for my shirt. "So, what's Step Three again?"

"What about Step Three?" Spot asked. He was leaning on the bathroom door frame, scrubbing his newly-washed hair with a towel (he always gets up a half an hour earlier than the rest of us to hijack the bathroom and do whatever it is that he does to his hair).

"We're starting it today," Skittery replied, calmly plucking Snitch's cap off of the floor and handing it to him.

Spot's jaw dropped.

"W-What?"

"We're starting Step Three today."

"Oh, shit... oh, _shit_! Shitshitshitshit!" He slid down the wall and buried his face in his hands. "Kill me now," he moaned.

"What's wrong?" Spot stared at me in shock.

"Do you know what Step Three _is_?! Family Therapy!"

I froze.

"Which means...?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. Our parents are coming." Spot groaned again. "Please, just kill me. Or better yet, kill my mother." 

No one in the room looked too happy about this, sans Skittery who looked pretty much indifferent. Snitch was clutching his cap and nervously sucking his thumb. Spot was still groaning from his position on the floor.

And Race?

Race was frozen. Absolutely frozen. He just kind of stood there, staring off into space with a cigarette smoldering in his hand.

"You okay?" Skittery asked. Race glanced at him for a second before whirling around and marching out of the room.

"I guess he isn't," Spot said quietly. He'd given up on the dramatics, thank God. But, you know, even though Spot normally acts like a bit of a "fairy queen" (as Swifty calls him), he knows when to knock it off and be serious. "Are _you_ okay?" he asked, directing his gaze towards me.

I blinked.

"I'm okay, I guess. My dad's pretty much an asshole, but my mom's really cool." Spot smiled bitterly.

"I wish I had a cool mom. Hell, I wish I had a _tolerable_ mom."

"Let's go grab some breakfast," Skittery said gently. I nodded and started to follow Spot out of the room. But before I got all the way out, I heard Skittery whisper, "Snitch, can I talk to you?"

I raised an eyebrow and shut the door behind me.

Could he be...?

I grinned to myself and pressed my ear against the door.

"What are you doing?" I glanced quickly at Racetrack and kindly motioned for him to shut the hell up.

"Listen." He frowned and pressed his ear to the door as well.

"... but I just didn't know how to tell you until now," Skittery was saying. 

Racetrack's jaw practically hit the floor.

"He's telling Snitch?!" he hissed. I nodded. "Move over." He grabbed the door and cracked it open a bit.

I felt like such a voyeur. It was great.

Skittery stood with his arms wrapped around himself and looking generally nervous, which was odd, considering the fact that Skittery hadn't been anything but calm and collected during the past few weeks. Snitch stood on the opposite side of the room from him. He looked absolutely shocked.

"Are... are you sure you feel like that?" he asked quietly. Skittery blinked in surprise.

"Of course I'm sure."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you care about me?" Now, it was Skittery's turn to look absolutely shocked.

"Why would you ask something like that?" Snitch turned bright red and looked at the ground.

"It's just... well, ever since my mom remarried, my stepfather's pretty much ignored me, and my stepsister's been a total ass. She's always telling me that I'm worthless and that no one could ever really care about me. So, I guess that after a while... I just started believing it, you know?"

Racetrack and I gaped at each other.

"That's _awful_," I whispered. Race just nodded and immediately focused back on the two boys.

Skittery looked like he was completely horrified. Then again, I really couldn't blame him. I mean, every now and then, Snitch would rant about how Estelle, his stepsister, was just a total bitch, but we never thought it was _this_ bad.

"Snitch, you've got to believe me. Estelle is full of shit, okay? She's just jealous because you've got actual friends, and her father has to pay for all of hers." I had to fight back a snicker on that one.

"Shut up, shut up!" Racetrack whispered through a grin of his own.

When we'd both stopped cackling enough to look back, the two of them seemed a _lot_ closer than they'd been before.

I think it was then that I realized that Race was pretty much pressed up against the right side of my body.

And for some strange reason, I really didn't mind.

But I decided not to dwell on that for too long.

"So, will you at least think about what I said?" Snitch smiled shyly and blushed.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll think about it." Skittery smiled. A real, true, actually smile, which was saying something, coming from that kid; he usually acts like he's at a funeral.

"Can I... maybe... give you something else to think about?"

My jaw dropped for the ten thousandth consecutive time that day.

"He's not... is he?"

"That line's so cheesy," Race whispered back.

"I think it's cute."

"You _would_."

"Shut up, I think he's gonna do it." We both clamped our mouths shut and looked back at Snitch and Skitts.

"Sure," the former said quietly. 

"He knows that he's gonna do it."

"No, he doesn't. Snitch is too thick to know anything about romance. He didn't even know that Skitts has been ogling him for the past month."

"I didn't know, either."

"Well, you're thick, too."

"And you're an asshole."  
"Indeed I am. Glad we got that out of the way." I grinned and rolled my eyes.

The whole time that we'd been jokingly insulting each other, Skittery had been walking slowly across the room until he was approximately half an inch away from Snitch. He (Skittery, that is) looked like he was about to either piss on himself or turn and run. But, he didn't end up doing either one of them. He appeared to mentally calm himself down, then leaned forward and kissed Snitch. Snitch's eyes widened in surprise, but he closed them a few seconds later, tentatively grasped Skittery's shoulders, and leaned into it.

Race and I looked at each other and grinned.

"Let's get out of here before they get too into it," he muttered, shutting the door silently. We trudged down the hallway together towards the courtyard.

"Didn't Snitch say that he wanted to think about it?" I inquired. Racetrack snorted and shrugged.

"He did think about it. For like... nine and a half seconds." We both snickered. "By the way, do me a favor and take a big step to your left when I tell you, okay?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Okay..."

"Now." I stepped to my left just as a dart whizzed through the spot where my head had been about a second ago. It flew past harmlessly and embedded itself in the wall with a loud "thunk."

"Oops," Itey said sarcastically as he walked by. "Sorry." He pretty much shoved me into the wall as he walked out into the courtyard.

I stared at him.

"He just chucked a dart at my head."

"Yes. Yes, he did."

"Is there a _reason_ why he just chucked a dart at my head?"

Now, if there's one thing that I've learned in the past month or so, it's that Dean "Racetrack" Higgins has the most impeccable poker face I've ever seen. So, when he turned bright red and started stuttering, I knew that there was something _seriously_ wrong.

But I let him think I didn't suspect anything when he sputtered out an, "er, I-I dunno."

Letting him know that I'm more observant than I look might disturb his macho-man complex.

*~*~*

"Scoot over!"

"Shut up, Swifty!"

"Yeah, Swifty!"

"Asshole..."

"God, he really is."

"Can you guys _not_ bring your personal problems into this?" Heels hissed. Bumlets and Pie Eater immediately looked at each other and settled for glaring at Swifty.

Perhaps I should explain before this goes any further.

Over the last month, Swifty and Pie had started seeing each other. Then, Swifty and Bumlets had started seeing each other. However, what no one realized was that Swifty was seeing Bumlets and Pie _at the same time_.

Not a good move. At all. Especially not since everyone eventually found out.

So, that's why it was _very_ uncomfortable for the three of them to be obnoxiously close to one another... like they were now. But, hey, it's not like we had a choice. Bumlets, Swifty, Pie, Itey, Heels, Spot, Chaser, Race, and I were all attempting to peek through the windows of the Training Building where the first session of "Family Therapy" was occurring. Said first session included the parents of Slosh, Mayfly, Mandy, and Speed.

"Crack the window," Chaser hissed. "The Bitch is talking to Speed's parents."

"Why do you care about what she's doing to Speed?" I asked curiously. Chaser looked at me like I was an idiot.

"Duh. I only have the biggest crush in history on her." Racetrack raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't know that? Holy crap, you really _are_ dense!"

I glared at them both.

"I despise you."

"Shh!" Heels snarled. "She's talking to Mandy." Swifty nudged the window open a bit so we could all hear. I turned my attention to the rather large, muscular man sitting on Mandy's right and the tall, thin, wisp of a woman on her left.

"... think of your niece's disgusting habits, Mrs. Garrett?" Mandy bit her lip and looked sadly at the ground. I heard a growl from somewhere to my left.

"Calm down, Heels," Race whispered.

"I'm gonna fucking kill her. I'll kill that bitch for doing that to Mandy."

"Doing what?"

"She made her cry!"

"There's nothing we can do about it," I said quickly. Heels' head snapped around. Her rather pretty blue eyes were narrowed into slightly evil slits, but I held my ground. "Jumping in the room and beating the shit out of Medda isn't gonna do anything." Heels glared at me for a few more seconds before nodding reluctantly and turning her attention back to the room.

The woman, apparently Mandy's aunt, had started to speak.

"I don't particularly find anything that Amanda does disgusting," she replied, beaming serenely. Mandy smiled brightly.

"Thank you, Aunt Tee." Medda didn't look like she liked that answer.

"So you don't find anything wrong with your niece's homosexuality?" Mandy's Aunt Tee blinked in surprise.

"Amanda, you're a homosexual?"

I had to fight against the overwhelming urge to slap my forehead. Duh, woman.

"Erm... yes, Aunt Tee."

"Ah. Well, that's all right, I suppose. After all, it isn't my place to judge you. That's God's decision and His decision only. But I still love you no matter what." She beamed brightly.

"I've never met a Catholic I liked, but I think that me and this lady could get along all right," Heels muttered.

"You could get along with _anyone_ who'd stand up for Mandy," Pie chimed in, nibbling on the end of his Snickers bar.

"What about you, Mr. Garrett?" The big man grunted.

"Is she fixed yet?"

"We're working on it."  
"That's all I need to know." Medda smiled and turned towards a very stiff-looking man and woman on either side of Slosh. Slosh did _not_ look happy. She was rolling her eyes and sucking on her flask of Lortab. 

"Mr. and Mrs. Johansen, Kylea blames her homosexuality on the fact that you two never show any affection to one another," Medda said, glancing sharply at Slosh. "How do you feel about this?"

"Excessive affection would make our daughter weak and unable to think independently. That is the last thing that she needs in a world such as this," Slosh's father said in a monotone voice. Her mother nodded. It was like these two were robots or something; it was a bit freaky.

Swifty started to hum the theme from "The Twilight Zone."

"Morons," Slosh muttered to herself. Her parents, apparently, didn't hear her. They just sort of stared off into space and didn't blink.

Medda looked a little freaked out herself, so she moved on to a rather cheerful-looking, chubby woman and a nervous-looking man. Mayfly sat in between them, looking generally happy. Then again, she usually did.

"Mrs. Bennett-"

"Please, call me Diane."

"All right, Diane, how do you feel about your daughter's homosexuality?" Mrs. Bennett sighed and shrugged, smiling all the while.

"Whatever makes her happy." Medda frowned.

"So you're saying that even though her disgusting, inappropriate behavior will probably get her sent to hell, you're fine with it as long as she's happy?" Mrs. Bennett frowned.

"I don't think my daughter's going to hell."

"Neither do I," Mr. Bennett chimed in. "To be quite frank, we're only here because my sister's husband is... uh... how should I put this?"

"An asshole?" Mayfly chimed in.

"Watch it, Ashleigh," Mrs. Bennett warned in a motherly fashion.

"A dirty redneck?"

"Works for me."

"I like her mom," Chaser said cheerily.

"So, my sister's husband _insisted_ that she be sent here. He paid for it and everything. I'm just trying to keep the peace in my family."

"Her uncle really is an ass," Spot said quietly. "Mayfly and me were best friends in grammar school. I remember him. A complete redneck, racist, homophobe."

Medda nodded slowly.

"I think that I should have a private chat with the two of you. I don't think you quite understand the seriousness of your daughter's condition." Mr. and Mrs. Bennett exchanged a look and shrugged as Medda moved on to Speed's family. Speed was sitting a good foot and a half away from the very proper-looking woman to her left. The man on her right was staring out the window and whistling under his breath. "Mrs. Anders, do you accept your daughter's condition?" Speed's mom gasped.

"Absolutely _not_! How could anyone _possibly_ tolerate this abnormality?" 

Medda smiled like she'd just been declared ruler of the universe... which I'm sure would make her happy.

"I really hate this woman," Swifty muttered.

"Who, Medda or Speed's mom?"

"Both of them."

"They're probably going to be finished in a sec. We should get out of here before the Closet Case Club notices us," Spot said quietly, gesturing to Mush and David who were off playing football.

Without another word, we all trudged away from the window, secretly dreading the latter part of the day when we'd be trapped in there.

*~*~*

Many eventful things happened that day.

God, that sounds like the first sentence of some cheesy high school essay, doesn't it?

Anyway. Major things did happen that day, though. David and Mush never really made us do anything, and Medda was too busy with Family Therapy. So, everyone just sort of ended up goofing around all day. Colleen/Maureen had another schizo fit and smashed up most of the windows in the girls' dorm. Medda swears that this time she's sending her off to an asylum. Heels freaked out during her session and said some things to her mother that I'd rather not repeat. Spot and Ireland bonded further over a love for ballet.

And me?

I had a chat with Mayfly.

Yeah, yeah, don't look at me like that. You're giving me that, "why are you talking to the psycho" look. She's actually _not_ a psycho.

I was kinda bored. It was right about when Dave, the random guy who lives in Q's basement, had decided to wander around and sniff the flowers, so it was somewhere in the middle of the third session. I noticed everyone's favorite non-violent nutcase (as opposed to Heels, who is a violent nutcase) sitting on a picnic bench outside. So, being the nice guy that I am, I decided to go talk to her.

"Hey!" She looked up at me. I was smiling happily, waiting for the slightly evil, semi-psychotic grin that I'd dubbed "the Mayfly grin." It never came.

"Hey," she said quietly. I raised an eyebrow.

"You okay?" She sighed.

"I hate watching Medda make my parents feel like shit. They don't care if I'm a lesbian. They really don't. As long as I'm safe and happy, they're happy."

"I didn't think parents like that existed any more."

"Mine are like that." She smiled sadly and looked at the ground where Delilah, her beloved clarinet, had been abandoned. "This is all my uncle's fault..." She turned to me suddenly. "Do me a favor and just keep talking. If I just keep talking, everything is gonna be okay."

I blinked.

"Erm... uh... you never did say how Bumlets got his nickname." Her entire expression changed. She immediately melted into the same, old diabolical Mayfly that I'd grown accustomed to.

"As you've probably noticed, Bumlets is a bit of a space case. Well, that first day, Spot was making fun of Skittery because he used to live in London. He said something about crumpets and scones. Well, Bumlets wasn't really listening, so he turned around and said, 'what about bumlets and bones?' It really wasn't that funny, but it was so incredibly random that we couldn't stop laughing." She grinned, and I couldn't help but grin back.

"So, what about your nickname?"

Her grin faded.

"Hoo, boy." She sighed. "I try not to let people see that I have a serious side, but I suppose you're gonna be one of the few to see it. Blink, do you know what a mayfly is?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Can't say that I do."

"Of course you don't. No one does." She chuckled bitterly. "A mayfly is a bug. A very small bug. It only lives for twenty-four hours because it's born without a mouth. So, every last one of them starves to death." She hadn't been looking at me, but she turned to face me then. "Can you imagine living your entire life in twenty-four hours?" I shook my head slowly. "Neither can I. And that's my whole thing, you know? I wanna do one great thing before I die. I want to be remembered. And I feel so sorry for these little things, because there's no way in hell that anyone will remember them if they've only got twenty-four hours to make something of themselves. So, I took up the name Mayfly because... well, if I don't remember them, who will?" She gazed up at the noontime sun and smiled sadly as the light reflected off of her glasses. She looked quickly back at me. "Don't tell anyone that I have actual brain cells, okay? It's so much easier when people just think I'm a good-natured lunatic."

"Your secret's safe with me."

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got world domination plans to work on." With a diabolical smile, she pulled a half-frozen eggroll out of the pocket of her skirt and chucked it at Chaser's head.

"MAYFLY, YOU DIRTY BITCH!"

I grinned and shook my head.

You know, everyone always told me that appearances can be deceiving, but I'd never believed it until that conversation.

"Session four is beginning!" I heard Ireland yell.

With a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach, I trudged towards the Training Building with the last four boys: Snitch, Skittery, Spot, and Race.

Oh, God, I was gonna die.

*~*~*

The five of us sat nervously in various chairs around the room.

"Hell, boys," Medda said cheerfully. "Your parents will be coming in one by one, so please introduce them." As if on cue, the door opened.

A man was standing in the doorway. His dark hair and hazel eyes were nearly identical to Snitch's, as did his rather large teeth. He locked eyes with Snitch, and they both gave each other twin smiles.

"Hi, Damien."

"Hey, Dad."

"Are you going to stand in the door all day, Ruben, or are you going to let us in?" Snitch's smile froze on his face. Mr. Baxter immediately stepped out of the doorway and bowed to a rather small woman with blue eyes and glasses.

"I apologize, _Trisha_," he spat.

"At least the property is nice," muttered the oddly familiar blond man behind the woman that I assumed was Snitch's mother. "Not as nice as my beach house in Cancun, but nice nonetheless." Snitch's smile was obviously forced now.

"Everyone, this is my dad, Ruben Baxter." Mr. Baxter smiled and waved at us all. "This is my mother, Trisha Benson, and my stepfather, Marcel Benson."

Marcel Benson... wasn't he on that cheesy soap opera, _Affaires Risquées_? 

Oh. So that's why he looked so familiar.

"Lovely to meet you, Mr. Benson!" Medda gushed, grabbing his hand and shaking it vigorously. "I absolutely adore your work." Benson flashed her a cheesy smile and thanked her "modestly."

Yeah, right. I had a feeling that this guy didn't know the meaning of the word "modesty." Except maybe as a brand of cologne.

Snitch's father sat on one side of him, his mother and stepfather on the other. I don't know how Snitch was able to stand it; hell, _I_ was about to snap from the tension, and I didn't even _know_ these people.

"Paul Spencer Conlon, I _sincerely_ hope you've made some progress!" a voice boomed.

"Oh, damn," Spot groaned. He winced in the general direction of the angry brunette standing in the doorway.

"Jesus Christ, Justine, leave the boy alone," another voice muttered. The woman walked in followed by another woman. This lady looked to be somewhere in her mid-sixties, but she was dressed like a twenty-year old. I could already tell that I was gonna like her.

Spot didn't even try to smile at his mother, but he practically tackled the woman that I assumed was his grandmother.

"I missed you, Tanya." I raised an eyebrow. He called his grandmother "Tanya?"

"Missed you, too, kid. Now make with the introducing." Spot pointed quickly at his mother. "My mom, Justine Conlon. And _this_," he said, gesturing proudly to the older woman, "is my grandmother. Tanya Mitchell. I command you to love her." Tanya grinned and ruffled her grandson's hair.

"Are we late?" a quiet voice asked. My jaw practically dropped at the sight of the woman who'd walked nervously into the room. I may be gay, but I know enough to know that that woman was absolutely _gorgeous_. Wavy blond hair, bright green eyes... she was beautiful. Skittery smiled and got to his feet.

"No, Mom, it's okay."

Did he say MOM?! This lady was his MOTHER?!

"I had to bring Nick and Alex; I hope you don't mind." She gestured behind her where a boy and a girl, both with orange-red hair, were staring longingly at Skittery. Without a word, they both raced forward and gave Skittery a massive hug. Skitts looked up and smiled.

"Everybody, this is my mom, Abigail Sloane. This is my little brother and sister, Nicholas and Alexandra, usually shortened to Nick and Alex." Nick grinned at everyone, and Alex and Skittery's mother gave identical tiny smiles.

"Isaac." 

At the sound of my name, my blood froze.

I leaped to my feet and stood straight like the good, little, neo-Nazi that my father had trained me as.

"Hello, Father."

"Yo, Blink!" My jaw dropped as Izzy and Iris appeared behind my father, grinning and waving.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"Mom wouldn't come," Iris said, sighing in an exaggerated way. "So, she sent us instead." She suddenly noticed Skittery and waggled her eyebrows. "Hey there, cutie. ... oh, damn, you're gay, aren't you?"

"Sorry to disappoint you."

"No problem." I grinned.

"Guys, this is my father, Hernan Cliffton. And these are my twin sisters, Isabel and Iris." Medda beamed and clapped her hands together.

"Great! Now that everyone's here, we can begin."

I raised an eyebrow and glanced at Racetrack, who was sitting in the corner by himself. I opened my mouth to say something, but he caught my eye and shook his head quickly.

So, I just sat back and prepared for the ride of my life.

*~*~*

Our session was probably the longest one.

Let me rephrase that. It _was_ the longest one.

How could it not be? 

We had Snitch's mom screeching at his dad the whole time while his dad shot dirty looks at Mr. Uber-Special TV Star. Spot's mom spent most of the session glaring at her son and, in turn, being glared at by Tanya (yes, even I called her Tanya; we all called her Tanya; how could you not?). My father acted like I wasn't even there while Izzy and Iris commented, rather loudly, on how cute Spot and Skittery were. The only people who acted normally were Skittery's mom and siblings.

And Race. But, then again, his family wasn't there to cause any trouble.

"Miss Sloane, how could you not find your son's behavior disgusting? I simply can't comprehend that." Medda leaned forward and stared sternly at Skittery's mother, who sighed.

"Honestly, I don't think that there's anything wrong with homosexuality, personally. It's just that... well, my brother was gay, and I saw the torture that people put him through. I don't want Jared to have to go through that." Medda frowned for a few seconds before a tiny smirk appeared on her face.

"Miss Sloane, what is your occupation?" Skittery's mother blinked in surprise.

"I beg your pardon?"

"What is your occupation? What do you do for a living?"

"I... I hardly find that necessary to-"

"It's a simply question, Miss Sloane. Answer it." She bit her lip and sighed before looking up and whispering something. "I'm sorry?"

"I'm a prostitute."

My jaw dropped.

Well. That would explain why Skittery didn't look anything like his brother and sister.

Skittery sort of stared at the ground. It looked like he was too ashamed to look anyone in the eye. 

"Skitts," I heard Snitch whisper quietly.

Medda glanced around the room with a triumphant smirk.

"Jared, that is most definitely your root. You have no respect for your mother, so you have no respect for any women! Now, I-"

"That's not true!" Skittery snarled. He got to his feet and shoved his finger directly in Medda's face. "Look, we're not the richest family in the world, okay? And my mom does what she has to do to help her kids survive. I can't _count_ the number of times that she's gone without dinner to buy a doll for Alex or a pair of shoes for Nick or some stupid thing that I wanted and didn't really need! And fuck you, because you don't even know her! So don't sit here and tell me that I don't respect my mother, because that's total bullshit! I have all the respect in the world for her!"

Everyone stared, dumbstruck. That's all we really could do. I mean, Skittery had never done anything like this the whole time we'd been here. He'd always been so calm. But now... well, he looked like he was about to snap Medda's head off.

"Watch what you say, Jared," our oh-so-wonderful instructor said coolly. "That temper of yours is going to get you into a lot of trouble some day." She shot Skittery and icy glare before beaming brightly at everyone. "Moving right along! Mr. Cliffton, how do you feel about your son?" My father sat up straight and smoothed down his mustache, like he always did when he thought he was about to say something important and/or intimidating.

"I think it's a load of crap. _And_ it's a weakness, in my eyes. How does he ever expect to get a decent job? Doctors and lawyers aren't _faggots_."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop fifty degrees as everyone stared icily at my father. Spot looked like he was about ready to rip my dad's head off, and I heard a faint "that _fucker_" from outside where the rest of my friends were undoubtedly watching (it sounded an awful lot like Q).

But Race took it the worst.

He jumped straight to his feet, stalked over to my dad, and shoved his finger in his face, a la Skittery. And my father is _not_ used to being defied. He didn't know how to take it, so he just sat there and gaped.

"That was a _shitty_ thing to say," Race snarled. "This is your _son_, you stupid fucker. It shouldn't matter to you if he's gay or straight or asexual or _whatever_. Ever heard of 'unconditional love?' You should thank your lucky stars that whatever god you believe in let you have a guy this great as a son. You got me?" He looked up sharply and glared at the rest of the parents. "And that goes for _all_ of you." After a moment of complete silence, Race stormed out of the building, muttering angrily in Italian the whole way.

After a few seconds, I swallowed my pride, scrambled to my feet, and went after him.

*~*~*

He was gone.

Not physically. _Physically_, we were both sitting on the grassy hill near the outskirts of the TD property. _Physically_, he was smoking a cigarette and looking generally pissed off while I was twiddling my thumbs nervously since we'd been sitting there for about ten minutes and he hadn't said a word to me.

He was gone mentally. The Race that wasn't an asshole. The Race that had been slowly but surely becoming my friend over the past week or so. The old Racetrack that had always hated me was back in place. And that annoyed me.

I finally decided to say something.

"I can't believe they haven't sent someone to get us."

"They don't give a shit about us," he replied flatly. I sighed and stared upwards at the sun that was just beginning to set. Okay, if idle chatter wasn't going to work on him, I'd try humor.

"You know that song Medda made me write a little while back?"

"Yeah."

"I did it as a cheer." Race slowly turned his head and stared at me, his eyebrow raised.

"A _cheer_?" I grinned.

"Yeah!"

"... why?"

"My girlfriend was a cheerleader." I frowned. "Well, soon-to-be ex-girlfriend, I guess." Racetrack rolled his eyes and smirked. "It was so incredibly stupid. How did it go? Uh... 'two, four, six, eight, God is good-'"

"'God is straight?'" he suggested. I grinned again.

"Something like that." We sat in comfortable silence and stared at the empty road.

"Your dad's a dick."

"I noticed. Where were your parents?" Race stopped in mid-yawn. He looked at me for a few seconds before sighing and snuffing out his cigarette.

"My dad used to have a toy factory. A big-ass one. We were filthy, stinkin' rich, and I loved it. Then, he disappeared. Don't know where he is, don't know if he's even alive. My mom remarried this Jesus freak, Ernest. He kept trying to turn me Catholic, which I'm definitely _not_. One day, he snapped. Stabbed my mom about six times. She's dead, and he's in jail." He smiled bitterly at the shock on my face. "To make a long story short, I live in a sort of a halfway house. They weren't pleased when they caught me fucking one of the other guys, so they sent me here.." 

"Race... I'm sorry."

"Why? It ain't your fault."

"I know. But it's the obligatory thing to say at times like this."

Another silence. This time, it was more awkward.

"Were you in love with him?" Racetrack glanced sharply at me.

"Who?"

"They guy that they caught you with." He stared at the ground for a second, his face blank. Then, he gave me a sad kind of smile.

"Does it matter?" He got to his feet, but there was no way I was letting him go after a cryptic answer like that.

I went to grab his arm and caught his hand instead.

And we just looked at each other. Just _looked_. Kinda like that look he'd given me when I told him that I wasn't good at reading people. Anything that I could have said would have caught in my throat, so I just didn't say anything. But, my _God_, I wanted to. I don't know _what_ I wanted to say, but I wanted to say something, anything.

This only lasted a split-second. Then, the _look_ disappeared from Race's eyes.

"Careful," he whispered. "I can report you for that." He turned and started walking back towards the boys' dorm, his fingers slipping slowly from my hand.

Was it then? Yeah, it was.

It was then that I discovered that I'd fallen _hard_ for one, Dean "Racetrack" Higgins.

****

End Chapter Four

I. Love. This. Fic. I NEVER get chapters out this fast. And, yes, this is fast for me. I'm no Dakota Jones; I can't write faboo chapters uber-fast like that. ^_^ I feel bad for making Mush such a moron; I'm sorry if I offended any Mush fangirls. Or fanboys. *stares pointedly at Twitch* So, yesh. This thing is already seventeen pages. WHY ARE MY FICS SO LONG?! Ah, well. One to the shout-outs!

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Shot Hunter: WHEEEE! TIAEAIS! I heart it. A lot. *beams* College will be fun, I think. Not exactly sure where I wanna go, though. Maybe Fordham, maybe Washington and Lee, maybe Tisch, maybe the College of Santa Fe... and, no, not just for the _Newsies_ factor. ^^ Or, I may stay in-state and go to Tulane, but I'd rather not do that. Or maybe I will. They have a good theater program there. *shrug* Okay, enough college babble. Tankies for the review!

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Tabloid: *reluctantly returns PianoMan!Snoddy* I can borrow him for ATCF, though, right? *begs* *raises an eyebrow* Sita-Pita? *blinks* That's a new one. Anyway. Glad you like, dearie. *flying tackle glomps* And _buena suerte_ on... well, "Buena Suerte!"

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kellyanne: YAY! *feels special* But, yesh, Natasha Lyone has no facial expressions. At all. And her "kill the Rangers!" line in the very beginning could NOT have been any cheesier. But maybe it was supposed to be that way... I LOVE GOTH!ITEY! He's so much fun to write! WHEE! So, yesh, glad you liked it! *beams* And thanks for reviewing!

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Gothic Author: Isn't he fun? *grins and dances* But there's a reason behind Race's asshole-y-ness! *beams* And he stops later on. *grins* Does this answer your question? *giggles* Yes, and SexyRake!Mush makes me smile as well. *grins and huggles* Syankuu for the loverly review!

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H.W.O: *pokes* You must write that original fic. Now. Or I will be sad. *cries* Ahem. Anyway. *glomps* Did I send you the rules to Mafia already? I forget. ^_^;;; So. I LURVE YOU! *glomps again* Tankies, tankies for reviewing-ness and whatnot!

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Ireland: *beams* Half of the guys would date you if they were straight! Tee-hee! Hmmm... I dunno! He might have a wittle, bitty cwush! (Race: SHUT UP! *runs*) Heheheheh... I checked out your LH, but I've never joined one before, so I dunno if I'd be any fun... ^_^;;; But, tanytway, I heart you, and thanks for the luuuuurvely review!

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Colleen: WHEEE! *huggles* Wow, I feel kinda bad about making fun of the guy now... ah, well, we can just make fun of Liz... though I feel bad about that, too. But, woo! I heart you. A lot. And I heart you even more for reviewing. ("It's still the beeeeeeeest-whoa-whoa-whoa!" "... what the HELL was that?!")

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Seraph: YAY! I'm glad you liked it! *grins* And thanks for reviewing!

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studentnumber25601: BLINK OBSESSERS OF THE WORLD, UNITE! *high fives* He's my favorite, too! (Blink: .... *cries*) Hmm... Blink/Race... *whistles innocently* Maaaaaybe... EEP! I'm _muy feliz_ that you enjoy it, especially since I adore your writing. *feels vewy, vewy, special* So, yesh. Thank you SO much for the lurvely review! ^_^

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Cerridwen: People tend to like SexyRake!Mush. Maybe I should auction him off... (Davey: MINE! *snatches SexyRake!Mush and runs off*) ... or not. Ahem. Anyway! Uber-happy that you liked it! And tankies for reviewing!

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Pyromaniacal Llama (Flare): EEP! I'm sorry! I used to say "confuzzled" all the time... *cries* BUT YES! TELL THE DICTIONARY PEOPLE! BWAHAHAHA! Ahem. I learned how to play Mafia from Tabloid. That was fun. *beams and dances* It's kinda confoozing (woo!), but it's fun. Race is an ass... for a reason. *evil grin* WHEE! Gracias for the reviiiiiiew!

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Raven: WHEE! CHOCOLATE-COVERED BLINK! *glomps Ravy* I luffle yoooooou! Syankuu for the review, darlin'!

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Artemis-chan: I heart you, too! WHEE! I'd just read MegaTokyo before I wrote that, so I HAD to fit L33T in there somewhere. ^^ Anyway! FOOTBALL! *shudders* FOOTBALL IS THE DEVIL! Ahem. But tankies for the review!

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Stage: Yesh. Very sick. And Sinead, one of the girls in the movie? She has a pain fetish, and she has a crush on Grahm (Race). So, at night, she takes her taser and one of Grahm's socks and.... ahem. Yeah. *tackles back* I LUFFLE YOU MORE!

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Glimmer Conlon O'Leary: *beams brightly* *sends many thanks* *dances* *does a backflip* *falls flat on her face* *cries* *sends more thanks* *sends even MORE thanks* *agrees that it is indeed fun to type completely in actions* *runs off, humming the "Batman" theme song*

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Lute-face: MY LOVE! *glomps* Wait, you like Snitch/Skitts? Wow! You learn something new every day! ^_^ Kidding, dearie. Ahem. Anyway. I can see Mush/Blink, and it's fun to write them every now and then, but I like Blink and Race more. They're more... I dunno. They seem more _real_. The majority of Blink/Mush fics are all chocolate-covered and filled with sunshine and happy bunnies. Or something. *shrugs* And would you believe me if I told you that I completely didn't do the Spot thing on purpose? I actually wanted to use either Dutchy or Mush, until I realized that Mush fit better as Mary's (Medda's) little in-denial protege. And then I got a better idea for Dutchy (he's coming in later). So, I picked a name and got Spot. *beams* But, yes, I've noticed that, too. Flamer!Spot is SO fun to write! We should just re-name him Outkasts!Spot. *nods* Sort of like how I'm thinking of renaming UberGoth!Itey BIAP!Itey. *beams* *huggles Itey* Anyway. I luffle you, my dear. *flying tackle glomps* Much love for the Lutells. Yesh, THE Lutells. Is there any other? *grins*

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Twitch: *points* Your FACE is Mafia! Anyway. I've been meaning to ask you this. When the HELL did you see the movie? But, yesh, they need to make out more. A lot. *nods* "ExCUSE me? The LAST thing I need is some FRUIT who just proved he's straight telling MY ass how sexy I am!" Must keep that line... *grins* I heart you, sweetling. *huggles*

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Mush's Skittles: *feels uber-special* Being crazy is good though! WHEEEE! *cackles and runs in a circle, screaming about communist alpacas* See? I just need to let it out every now and then. *twitches* "Fantasmagorical?" WOOOOO! I LUFFLE THAT WORD NOW! *dances* Anyway. Syankuu for the loverly, loverly review-ness!

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hilaRyB: ..... wow. I haven't had a review that fun since the anime section. *beams and huggles* I love your musies. Especially SweetGoth!Dutchy. I may steal him... *shifty eyes* And BrooklynIsQueeah!Spot is right: all girls are psycho. I mean, look at all of us. Not that being psycho is a _bad_ thing... *cackles* Well, many tankies for reviewing! And your husband would like a ring made completely out of earthworms and Hershey's dark chocolate.

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Quimby: Did I send you the rules to Mafia? I keep forgetting who I've sent them to and who I haven't. *frowns* SQUIRRELS! WOO! And hooray for getting groped by lesbians! WOOHOO! *dances* _THE LOST BOYS!_ I LOVE THAT MOVIE! Life doesn't get much better than sitting in your bed at three in the morning with a bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and watching a movie about vampires with mullets. *beams* Tankies for the luuuurvely review!

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The Jack Loving Misfit: Oh, yay-ness! Uber-glad that you like it! *beams cheerily* I know how you feel... especially when you get UNGODLY addicted to a story, and it ENDS... *glares in Lute's general direction* *beams* So, whee! Hooray-ness! And muchas gracias for reviewing!

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Liams Kitten: *gasp* YOU MUST SEE THE MOVIE! Soooo funny... it's worth it just to see RuPaul dressed like a man. *beams brightly* This fic has NOTHING on the actual movie. The girl who plays Megan (Blink) kinda sucks, but everyone else is incredible. *giggles and dances* Thanks for the review-y-ness!

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Aura: David/Mush is quite fun, isn't it? And Prancing!Spot is a fun, fun boy. YAY, _BUT I'M A CHEERLEADER!_ *high fives* Thank you soooooo much for reviewing! ^_^

Okay, that's all from me today. But the good stuff starts happening in the next chapter. *grins* And two people leave True Directions! *gasp* WHO COULD IT BE?! You'll just have to wait to find out. *grins* Though, if you review, the chapter might come faster... *whistles innocently and points to the "Submit Review" button*


	6. Chapter Five: Moonlit Discoveries

WHEE! Hiya, kids. *beams cheerily* Decided to take a break from writing Absolute Destiny: Apocalypse (*pulls out hair* I CANNOT WRITE THIRD PERSON! *cries*) and work on this little bugger for a while. This actually isn't going to be as long as I thought it was. *beams cheerily* Anyway. Uber-thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. I love you all! OOH! And guess which fic won Best Kid Blink Fic in the 2003 NML Awards? Yeah, that'd be this one! XDDD So, a big, huge, MAJOR thank you to everyone who voted for this loverly ficcie. ^_^

Disclaimer: The _Newsies_ characters don't belong to Sita; they belong to Disney. All original characters, save for Mayfly, belong to their original creators; Sita does not own them either. ^^

Warnings: Language, MORE SLASH IN THIS CHAPPIE! WOO!

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But I'm a Prep!

Chapter Five

Boy meets boy. Boy hates boy. Boy, due to some odd twist of fate, becomes friends with boy. Boy wants to screw boy silly.

Such is my life.

With a slightly frustrated sigh, I scrubbed the last bit of sleep out of my eye and tried to focus on combing my hair.

But how could I focus on anything with the epitome of sexiness standing next to me?

And I honestly have no idea how Racetrack went from being the spawn of Satan to the epitome of sexiness in a month. Hey, it's not like I know how my mind works.

"Aw, crap." I pricked up my ears and set down my comb.

"What's up, Race?" Snitch asked, trying to "nonchalantly" brush hands with Skittery as he reached for a towel.

"Whatever Q drew on my back last night isn't coming off."

Yes, Q drew on his back. In Sharpie, from what I remember. Hey, it was a crazy night. Spot somehow managed to get a couple bottles of Smirnoff ("from an outside contact," he stated slyly), and things got a little weird once we got smashed. Bebop challenged Snitch to a game of Pictionary. Snitch lost, and the girls insisted that we do whatever they wanted in order to compensate for the nonexistent ten bucks that Snitch had promised the red-headed girl. In typical Q fashion, all the twitchy girl wanted to do was draw on Race's back. Hey, it may sound weird, but he got off easier than I did. Speed put my hair into about a hundred little knots, slathered make-up on my face, and then made me sing "I Will Survive." And let me add that I can't sing worth a shit.

But, anyway.

"It looks like a llama," Skittery affirmed, straightening his tie.

"Nah, it's just a blob," Spot contradicted.

"I don't give a shit what it is! I just want to get it off!"

That's when I decided to look over.

And it probably would have been better if I hadn't.

Race had apparently just gotten out of the shower. He was standing, soaking wet, in front of the mirror, frowning and scrubbing at a blob on his back.

Did I mention that he was wearing absolutely nothing but a rather small towel wrapped around his waist?

"Blink? Bliiiiiink... yoo-hoo, Earth to Blink!" Spot waved his hand in front of my face, which failed to snap me out of my little daydream. So, he moved on to Stage Two: smacking me on the butt.

"Huh? What?" He glanced quickly at Race before turning back to me with a gleeful grin.

"See something that you like?"

"Shut up," I mumbled, red-faced. Spot cackled wildly.

"Aw, you're so CUTE!" he squealed. He pinched my cheeks, giggled like a nine-year-old girl, and then skipped out of the room.

"What's he babbling about?" Race asked, yanking on his pants.

"Erm... I dunno." I smiled nervously and trudged off towards the bathroom with the intention of taking a very, _very_ cold shower.

*~*~*

I sighed and leaned against the wall.

"I don't think I can take being stuck in this hellhole for much longer," I muttered.

"Aw, come on!" Swifty replied cheerily. "If I can stick it out, so can you." He jabbed his thumb in the general direction of the Training Building stoop where Pie Eater and Bumlets were whispering and glaring in Swifty's general direction.

"True. Hey, speaking of which, why'd you do it? If you don't mind me asking."

"Do what?"

"Two-time them, dumbass." Swifty grinned.

"It's all part of my master plan. You'll see." I raised an eyebrow.

"Master plan?" I repeated. "What, like an evil plan to take over the world?"

"Something like that."

"Who do you think you are? Itey?" Swifty laughed.

"That kid's got some serious problems. I don't like him. And, you know, it's not because he's got the whole uber-goth thing going on. I'm fine with that, really. It's that he's got this whole 'tude problem."

"Did you just say _'tude_?"

"Yes. Yes, I did. And he _does_ have a rotten attitude." I snorted as Swifty cheerfully extinguished his cigarette.

"I know. _Believe_ me, I know. He threw a fuckin' dart at my head, you know."

"He _what_?!"

"Yup. Threw a dart straight at my head." Swifty whistled softly in astonishment.

"That's harsh... but I guess I can _sorta_ see where he's coming from. I mean, he's got a _huge_-ass crush on Racetrack. And, of course, so do you."

Well. That would explain things.

"Am I that obvious?" Swifty smirked.

"Yeah. To everyone but Race, naturally. He may be good at 'reading people,' as he likes to say, but he's shitty at figuring out what people are thinking about _him_."

"Hey, Swifty. Blink." I glanced behind me and grinned at Ireland as she stepped out of a side door with a clipboard and a vacuum cleaner hose.

"Hey, Ireland. What's up with the hose?" She smiled and shrugged.

"Cleaning it. We're trying to teach the girls how to vacuum properly, but they hardly ever use it like it's supposed to be used. Let's see... it was Stage's elephant trunk for a while... then it was a snake, and Chaser was Cleopatra... then Maureen threw it out the window."

"She has a tendency to throw things out of windows, doesn't she?" Swifty commented. Ireland sighed and nodded. Suddenly, her eyes widened.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" She reached into the Barishnikov bag at her side and pulled out two neon pink fliers. She handed one to me and one to Swifty.

"'Escape Conformity,'" I read out loud. "'Explore Other Possibilities - Meet in Front of the Training Building at Midnight on Saturday.'" I frowned. "What is this?"

"Think of it as a field trip," Ireland replied with a mysterious smile. "My old next-door neighbor, Mr. Kloppman, started up this little place called the Lodging House. It's sort of like a safe house for gay kids. He and two friends of mine, Specs and Dutchy, set up this little excursion for you guys." She smiled brightly. "Aunt Medda hates the place. She hates Mr. Kloppman for running it, and she hates Specs and Dutchy for converting."

"Converting?" Swifty echoed. Ireland nodded.

"Specs and Dutchy almost graduated from True Directions about two or three years back. They managed to last until the day before the graduation ceremony."

"What happened?"

"They couldn't take it any more, so they escaped that night and ran off to the Lodging House. Now, they kinda help Mr. Kloppman out."

"Ireland! Are you done?" a voice called.

"Almost, Mush! Hang on, I'll be there in a sec!" she yelled back. She sighed and turned to us. "I'd better go. But, listen, don't let Aunt Medda or Mush or Davey or anyone you don't trust see that, okay?" Her huge, blue eyes were solemn. "Mr. Kloppman could get in a _lot_ of trouble if Aunt Medda sees this and puts two and two together. And he's such a sweet, old man, and I really admire what he's doing for these kids, so that's the _last_ thing I want."

We nodded gravely.

"Great. See you guys in a few; free time's ending in about five minutes." With a smile and a wave, she disappeared back into the Training Building.

"You gonna go?" I thought about it for a second and shrugged.

"I dunno. Maybe, maybe not. If we get caught, we're screwed. My dad would _murder_ me if I got thrown out. What about you?"

"Hell, yeah! Look, if I stay here one more second, I'm gonna go _nuts_. I gotta get out of here, even if it is just for a little while. No matter _what_ the risk."

"Free time's up, guys!" David screeched from the football field. "Let's go!" Swifty smiled at me, patted me on the shoulder, and reluctantly trudged towards the accursed field.

"So it's TRUE!"

I practically jumped out of my skin when I heard the voice.

"SMARTASS?!" 

"The one and only," she replied, flashing me a Cheshire cat grin.

"What the HELL are you doing here?!" She gestured to the side of the girls' dorm where Slosh was chatting away with a girl who looked an _awful_ lot like Tiger.

"Tiger's best friend, Slosh, got sent up here, and Tiger's going crazy without her. She decided to sneak in and have a chat." Smartass grinned again and pushed up the brim of her cabby hat. "Rumor has it that you got your ass sent up here, too, and I just _had_ to find out if it was true. So..." she trailed off and smirked evilly. "You're gay?"

I groaned and slapped my forehead.

"Yes..." I mumbled.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" she asked innocently, cupping her ear.

"YES, I'M GAY!" Smartass clapped her hands together and let out a cackle.

"I KNEW it!" She giggled wildly, then clicked her tongue. "Aw, and Zooey's been talking about how much she misses you!" I smiled sadly. Hey, I may be gay, but Zooey's still a sweetheart. She shouldn't have to find out that her boyfriend's gay via the school newspaper (which was more than likely how she, and the rest of the school, _would_ find out now that Smartass knew). Smartass glanced over my shoulder. "Tiger looks like she's just about finished. My work here is done." She beamed.

"Are you putting this in the gossip section of the _Herald_?"

"You better believe it, baby! TIGER! Let's move it!"

"That girl is such a freak," I muttered, mostly to myself.

"You shouldn't judge people on how they look," a quiet, calm voice said. I whirled around to face Tricia "Tiger" George. She didn't yell at me or hit me or do any of the things that I would have expected a girl to do. She just sort of stared at me and didn't blink. Needless to say, I was feeling just a _tad_ uncomfortable. "You've never even _spoken_ to me unless you absolutely had to, so who says you have the right to pass judgment on me? You can't assume that you know everything about someone, no matter how stereotypical they may seem. But I thought that you, of all people, would already know that, Mr. 'Perfect Life, Perfect Family, Perfect Girlfriend, Oh, Wait, I'm Gay.'" With that, she turned and walked away with Slosh, just as calmly as she'd spoken.

Smartass whistled softly as I gaped at her.

"Damn. She sure told you." She turned back to me and grinned widely. "Must be off. Have fun, Blink."

"Of _course_ I will," I muttered sarcastically as she skipped off.

Stupid girls.

I don't know _how_ I used to tolerate them.

*~*~*

You know, there's nothing quite as stupid as attempting to prove your nonexistent heterosexuality by _chopping wood_ for three hours.

It's tiring, too.

So, naturally, I was pretty happy when I was finally able to collapse into my bed and doze off. But I was in _no_ way prepared for the dream that greeted me...

__

I gritted my teeth as I felt my back hit the wall. I didn't even have time to start thinking coherently again before I felt his teeth nipping at my ear.

"Shit," I choked out. "Shit, Race-"

"Shut up," he whispered huskily. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, yanked me towards him, and crushed his lips to mine. 

"Fuck..." I bit my lip and grabbed at the back of Racetrack's shirt as he trailed his tongue down my neck. "W-We're gonna get caught..." He only stopped for a millisecond.

"You want me to stop? Just say it, and I'll stop."

"Don't."

"What?"

"Don't stop, dammit!" He snickered quietly before starting to unbutton my shirt. "Shit... ho-ly shit..." My knees went week as Race's lips traveled lower... and lower...

BZZT!

At the sound of the vaguely familiar noise, I woke up pretty quickly.

And so did something else.

"Shit," I groaned quietly to myself.

BZZT!

I glanced sharply at the other side of the room where I noticed Itey, crouched over Race's bed. It looked like he was watching him sleep. Every few seconds, he'd grab his taser and shock himself, but it didn't seem to be doing any good.

Then, I remembered Speed saying something about Itey's freakish pain fetish.

Weirdo.

_Okay_, I thought to myself. _I've got two options. I can sit here and watch Itey have Taser Fun Hour, or I can go somewhere and try to fix my... problem._

I chose the latter.

Silently, I slipped out of the bed and crept through the door. I glanced around quickly before starting down the hallway.

"Blink?" a familiar voice whispered. I turned around and blinked in surprise.

"Swifty? What are you doing on this floor?" He grinned and pointed at the window.

"Checking out the results of my master plan." I looked over my shoulder, and I couldn't help but smile.

Bumlets and Pie Eater were sitting in the window seat, talking quietly. Bumlets had his arm around Pie, and Pie was resting his head on Bumlets' shoulder.

It was, quite possibly, one of the most adorable things I'd ever seen.

"That was your master plan? To set them up?" Swifty grinned and nodded.

"Come on, they're perfect for each other! The thing is, I knew they'd never get anywhere, because they both had crushes on me. So, I just... helped them along a little."

"But now they both hate you." Swifty shrugged.

"A necessary sacrifice. I consider them both my friends, and they're both happy. That's all I really need." He smiled wistfully as the pair kissed quickly, oblivious to the fact that they were being watched. "I've got a boyfriend, anyway."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. His parents kinda caught us making out, and we got sent here. Different sessions, of course. They didn't want us associating." Swifty smiled bitterly before continuing. "He was at the one before this and ended up escaping. I get letters from him every now and then, but he can't tell me where he is, because Medda reads all the mail that we get." He sighed sadly, then brightened. "But, whatever. He'll let me know where he is when he can." We smiled at each other. "Oh, by the way, avoid the bathroom. Speed and Chaser are making out in there."

I blinked.

"Why didn't they use their own bathroom?"

"Because Stage, Bebop, and Q are using it as an arena for their 'Uber-Spiffy, Insomnia-Battling Breakdance Contest,' as they like to call it."

"Ah. Good reason." I grinned and crept back down the hall after quickly waving goodbye to Swifty. My "problem" had calmed itself down, so there was nothing to worry about except getting back into bed before David or Mush or Satan herself decided to do an impromptu late-night check.

You know, if I just would have kept walking, none of this crap would have happened.

But I didn't. I stopped when I heard the moaning.

_The fuck is that?_

I suddenly noticed a door that I'd never seen before. Well, I'd _seen_ it, but I'd always figured it was a storage closet or something.

Being the idiot that I was, I decided to ignore the little part of me that was screeching, "NO! NO, RUN AWAY, YOU FOOL!" With a slightly confused frown, I stepped up to the apparently normal, blue door and pushed it open.

I don't know what it used to be used for, but the room was now, apparently, a storage center. Broken desks, bags of various sports equipment, and other assorted crap littered the grimy floor. A single, bare light bulb dangled, darkened, from the ceiling. 

And in the very center of the room were Snitch and Skittery.

Shirtless.

With their hands down each others' pants.

They stared at me for a few seconds, and I stared right back. Then, we all proceeded to do the most rational thing that could be done at such a time.

We screamed like little girls.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" I shrieked, tripping backwards over a discarded table leg. "HOLY SHIT, WH-" Skittery darted forward and slapped his hand over my mouth.

"You're gonna get us caught!" he hissed. 

"Oh, God, Blink, you can't tell! You _can't_!" Snitch cried, practically hysterical. He was almost hyperventilating. I glared at Skittery and smacked his hand away.

"I'm not gonna tell anyone! Just keep your fuckin' hand off my face!"

"What the HELL is going on here?!"

My blood ran cold as I whirled around.

There, in the doorway, was a very pissed-off closet homosexual.

David glared at all three of us, hands on his hips.

"I'm waiting for an answer. Why aren't the three of y-" He stopped in mid-sentence when he noticed that both Snitch and Skittery were missing their shirts.

Shit.

"So," he said icily. "So."

Though it took a _lot_ of effort, I refrained from saying, "so what?"

"David-" Snitch began.

"I don't wanna hear it, Damien." David shook his head slowly. "I had high hopes for you two, you know that?" He glared at them both. "Come on. We have to wake up Medda."

A jolt shot through my entire body right about then.

Why?

Because I realized that whatever happened to those two... it was all my fault.

*~*~*

"I want to know who started this. NOW!"

We all winced as Medda's irritated voice drifted out the window.

"This is all my fault," I whispered, mostly to myself.

"You can't blame yourself, Blink," Bumlets replied softly. "Spot, can you see anything?" Spot turned away from the window, shaking his head angrily.

"Not a damn thing. She's got those thick-ass curtains in the way. I don't know what the _hell_ they're made of, but they're making my eyes bleed." He shuddered.

"This isn't the time to be pulling a Carson on us, Spot," Bebop chided. I frowned.

"'Pulling a Carson?'" She stared at me.

"Carson? From Queer Eye?" I shrugged. "And you call yourself a gay man!"

"Hey, I'm still new at this!"

"Can we not talk about this now?" Race hissed. "I can't hear what's going on."

"-deny it? Well, are you? Are you _honestly_ going to sit here and tell me that the two of you were just out for a late-night stroll _without shirts_?" Medda snarled.

"No, ma'am." Skittery's voice was still steady, at least. I could barely hear Snitch.

"Good. Now, I need to know who started this. Whoever did is OUT. I can only help those who are willing to help themselves. Now, _who was it_?!"

A pause.

"It was me."

My jaw dropped.

"_Snitch_?!" Mayfly hissed. 

"No fucking way," Slosh said angrily. I think it was the first time that I'd ever seen her show actual emotion.

"Snitch, that's bull-" Skittery started.

"No. No, it was me. I came on to Skitts."

"Snitch, don't do this! It's not _true_!"

"Damien, pack your things," Medda said flatly. "You're out."

Mandy burst into tears and buried her head in Heels' shoulder.

"Why is he doing this?!" Pie whispered frantically. "Why's he taking the blame?!"

"Wouldn't you do the same thing for Bumlets?" Race said quietly. They locked eyes for a few seconds. Pie bit his lip and looked away.

"Yeah," he replied softly. "Yeah, I would."

I just sort of stared at the ground as we listened to Medda speak quietly into her bright pink telephone.

"You okay?" Stage asked me gently as she helped Chaser comfort a teary-eyed Speed.

"He just knows that it's all his fucking fault," Itey snarled, plucking at one of his earrings.

"Fuck off, Itey, it's not like he did it on purpose," Spot barked. "Are you gonna be all right?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Don't worry about me. I... I'm gonna head back to the dorm."

He nodded back, and I started to trek through the yard followed by various calls of, "G'night, Blink!"

"Why?"

I stopped dead in my tracks. The question was barely above a whisper, but it was so full of pain that I couldn't help but stop. I glanced over at the courtyard of the V.I.P dorm, where I'd first seen Heels, Spot, and all the others. Snitch was sitting silently on one of the benches with his thumb in his mouth. Skittery towered over him, his arms crossed and tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Why what?" Snitch replied, unable to look him in the eye.

"What do you think, stupid?" Skittery muttered affectionately. "Why did you lie? You know damn good and well that I started this whole thing and not you."

Snitch smiled from around his thumb and finally met his boyfriend's eyes. 

"I've never been brave, Skitts. Never had a reason to. I'm the kind of person who sits back and lets people walk over him to avoid problems. I don't usually stand up for myself or do anything important. But when I saw what was gonna happen to you... I just couldn't do it. I couldn't let her fuck you over, Skitts."

"But I would have deserved it!"

"I deserve this just as much as you do. Medda's full of crap. This isn't about who _started_ it. Nobody _started_ anything. We both went into this knowing damn well what would happen if we got caught. You didn't force me into anything, so why should you get screwed over and not me?"

"But now you're the only one getting screwed over!" Skittery cried, practically hysterical. Snitch smiled sadly.

"Better me than you."

That's about when Skittery grabbed him and kissed him like there was no tomorrow.

And I guess, for them... there really wasn't.

*~*~*

I poked at my cereal. How the hell could I _eat_ when Skittery was stuck with a week in the Doghouse (a tiny room roughly have the size of a closet), and Snitch was getting booted for good?

"You're still angsting about it," Mayfly chided, lazily tossing a half-eaten bagel at Swifty's head.

"I'm not angsting about anything."

"Bullshit," Chaser replied cheerily. "For the last time, nobody blames you. Except Itey."

"You damn well better believe I blame him. If that little twink would've squealed on me... I'll leave it to your imagination."

"What were you gonna do, tie him to your bed and zap him to death?" Race muttered sarcastically. "Or is your taser running low on batteries?"

I snickered to myself as Itey glared at the world.

"Hey, guys."

The entire room turned towards the source of the voice.

Snitch was standing in the doorway, clutching a suitcase. He was dressed in jeans, a black shirt, and (of all things!) a letterman jacket. And, of course, his ever-present backwards cap. He smiled sadly and waved.

"We're gonna miss you, Snitch," Speed said quietly. He nodded and bit his lip.

"I'm gonna miss you, too. All of you."

"This is _bullshit_!" Heels snarled suddenly. She slammed her spoon down on the table and stood up.

"What's bullshit?"

"_Everything_! Medda, Davey, Snitch getting kicked out, this whole fucking program is bullshit!" She glared at us all in turn. "And I'm sick of sitting here and pretending that it's working! It's not! It never has! It never will! I've been wanting to say something since the first day, but I've managed to keep my mouth shut. But now, I'm losing a friend. Someone that I really consider a fucking _friend_, all because of this bullshit! _And I can't fucking take it any more_!"

"Rafferty!" Medda snapped from her own table. "Rafferty, sit down _immediately_, or you'll be joining Damien!" Heels whirled to face Medda, fire flashing in her blue eyes.

"You think I fucking _care_, you Nazi?! Kick me out! See if I give a flying fuck!"

"Heels, no!" Mandy cried, horrified.

"Fine. You're _out_, Rafferty. Pack your things."

Heels smiled in grim satisfaction as our jaws dropped.

"Heels, what the _hell_ do you think you're doing?!" I heard myself yell. She smirked at me.

"I'm doing exactly what I've wanted to do since I got here." She leaped onto the table, kicking various plates and glasses out of her way. "Fuck you!" she shrieked, pointing at Davey. "Fuck you!" she yelled again, this time pointing at Mush. "You're cool," she said to Ireland. "And, most of all," she began, glaring at Medda, "FUCK! YOU!" With that, she leaped down from the table and started towards the girls' dorms, leaving us all in stunned silence. "Oh," she said, smiling evilly. "One more thing..." Without the slightest warning, she marched over to the table, leaned over, and kissed Mandy full on the mouth.

As she stormed away, I felt the urge to clap.

We finished our breakfast silently, save for Mandy who just sort of sat there, looking like she'd seen a ghost. Medda fumed, Davey looked worried, Ireland fought to keep from smiling, and Mush just looked confused.

After breakfast, we started Step Four: Demystifying the Opposite Sex. This, apparently, involves sitting the boys down in one room, the girls in another, and then having us both watch _porn_.

I shit you not.

So, there I was, squished in between Race and Bumlets on one of the tiny benches in the Viewing Room on the second floor of the V.I.P Dorm watching as Davey projected various images of naked women onto the screen in front of.

I sighed and stared at the ceiling. Life, basically, sucked. Two of my friends were gone (yes, I considered Heels my friend), and Skittery was going to be living in hell for the following week. Plus, I wasn't any closer to getting out of this place than I was a month ago, and my body was _not_ reacting well to the fact that the object of my affections was pressed against my left side.

Speak of the devil...

Race muttered irritably under his breath and shifted positions so that his arms were crossed.

A few seconds later, I felt something gently brush up against my left arm. I glanced down and saw that Race was softly tracing patterns on my arm with his fingers.

I swallowed as I pretended not to notice while, simultaneously, my inner self shrieked with joy.

Okay, so maybe life didn't suck _quite_ as horribly as I thought it did...

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End Chapter Five

Not exactly satisfied with the ending, but what can you do? *shrugged* That's the way it happens in the movie! ^_^;;; Anyway! I've decided to put "As the Curtain Falls" on hold for a bit until I finish this fic, which really shouldn't be that much longer. *cackles* The _really_ good stuff starts happening next chapter. It's gonna be a blast. AND WE'RE GONNA BREAK A HUNDRED! YEEEEEAH! *dances* Anyway! Onto the shout-outs!

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Aguachica: *giggles* I was pretty proud of that part. In the movie, it's even funnier. Megan and Grahm (Blink and Race) are working with plastic babies and trying to change diapers (and the babies actually pee). They end up fighting over a diaper, screw up, and end up squirting Mary (Medda) with fake, purple baby pee. *cackles madly* Anyway! Thanks SO much for reviewing, and I'm glad you like the ficcie! *beams*

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Shakes: Yesh, I'm gonna need to put ATCF on hold... just for a bit! *runs and hides* YAY, GRUDGES! ... wait... *frowns* *beams* *shrugs* Tanytway! WHEE! YOU LIKE! YAY! *huggles* But I will continue working on ATCF in between this and the loverly ficcie that I'm co-writing with the Great and Powerful Lutells (*cough*shamelessplug*cough*). Tankies for giving BIAP a chance! XD Oh, and Mafia's a card game. ^_^ I'll send you the rules if you like! *huggles again*

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Artemis-chan: Yush, Blink's dad is such a poo. *pouts* Isn't Skittery's family FABOO? He and Mush have the best ones, but I couldn't use Mushee's family in this one, since he was supposed to be vaguely related to Medda... *shrugs and beams* Anyway! *gasps* YOU WENT TO THE MT PANELS?! *gasps again* *worships Fred Gallagher* I'm DYING for them to come to Numa Rei-No Con here in Louisiana. I ADORE MT! *cuddles her Dom plushie* Football needs to be slapped. *glares* I've never seen the point in it. But, that's another story. *sheepish smile* *glomps* I HEART YOU MORE!

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Anne: EEEEP! *huggles tightly* You have _no_ idea how happy it makes me to know that my lowly, little ficcie can make someone's day. Seriously. It just makes me... well, uber-happy. XDDD RACE/BLINK KICKS ASS! *giggles and dances* As you can see, I changed it up a bit to add in the part about Heels. ^_^ Dolph and Megan's little revolution is gonna grow a tad... *cackles* Have you ever noticed that Dolph's, "I'm doing this for you, not for Clayton" line makes him sound like he's from Brooklyn? It amuses me. But, anyway! SO GLAD YOU LIKE! GAH! *glomps* And Diabetic!Specs is _quite_ adorable! *beams* Sankyuu for reviewing!

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Gothic Author: Okay, the fact that you like my story makes me giggle with mirth and delight, because YOU, my dear, are a fabulous writer. I'm sure I've mentioned that before, though. And if I haven't, shame on me. ^_^ But, anyway... there's nothing wrong with being a complete and utter fangirl! It's admirable! *waves Gothic Author flags* YAAAAAAY! I GET A SEAL OF APPROVAL! *runs around, shrieking like a two-year-old* Thanks SO much for the review!

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The Jack Loving Misfit: YAY, NON-DANCERS! *high fives* I am an absolutely HORRIBLE dancer. Seriously. My dancing makes people want to cry, laugh, and vomit all at the same time. Anyway. Back to the story. *pops head with pin* *blushes* Thank you... I dunno how to deal with compliments very well. ^_^;;; But thank you! UBER-thank you! *grins* And tankies for the loverly review!

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Aura: MEEP! CLEA DUVALL ROCKS MY WORLD! Why does she always play a lesbian? *shrugs* Ah, well, she's a good lesbian. *grins* Oooooh, yeah... that's next chapter. *cackles* I have big plans for that bar. *evil grin* YAY, PERKINESS! Well, sankyuu for reviewing! ^____^

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Pyromaniacal Llama (Flare): I love long fics, too! I can't seem to write short ones. *shrugs and smiles sheepishly* I get all these ideas that I wanna use and they just sorta... keep growing... ^_^;;; PANDAAAA! My replies to your views on the families:

Snitch: *snorts* And you didn't even meet Estelle...

Spot: His mother needs to be slapped. She's also a hypochondriac which you didn't get to see. But Tanya is a doll. 

Skittery: His mom and his brother and sister all rock. They're really close, family-wise. I luffle them.

Race: Scary, isn't it? Well, it explains his asshole-iness. ^_____^

*grins* Uber-glad you like it! Gracias for the reviiiiiiiew!

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Ireland: *huggles* I had to make Mush stupid in this one. It's part of the character. *sheepish smile* I feel bad about it though. I wasn't bashing Catholics! I'M Catholic! You'd never know it by reading my fics, though, would you? ^_^;;; You and Spot can have a cover marriage. *giggles wildly* Tankies much for reviewing!

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Seraph: HOORAY! *many, many hugs* I know... had to put SOME sadness in here, though. It'd be boring if it was all fluff. *beams* Gracias for the review-ness!

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Liz: *puts on scary mask* I'M A-GONNA PUT IT IN YA! *grins* Much love, you face. "I'm totally crushin'!" "CHILDREN!"

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Nerikla: Blink/Race is SERIOUSLY drool-able, isn't it? *evil grin* Gaaaah... *beams* TANKIES! I'm a very sarcastic person, so most of my writing is as such. ^_^ *giggles* Tankies SO much for reviewing!

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Glimm: Slash is VERY good. And, yet, there are those who hate it. *sighs and shakes head* How anyone could hate slash is beyond me, but, eh. *shrugs helplessly* Racetrack will go be your baby, won't you, Race? (Racetrack: .... no.) .... ignore him. Anyway! You rock my.... well, I'm not wearing any socks. So, you rock my cow-printed pajama pants to Kyoto, Japan! If that makes any sense at all. *grins and shrugs* Uber-tankiness for the loverly review-age!

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Checkmate: *giggles wildly* Glad you like it! SEE?! Told ya you were coming back! *dances in a circle* I was rather proud of my cheetah line; glad to see that you enjoyed it as much as I did! ^____^ Many thanks!

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Liams Kitten: *beams brightly* I CAN'T BE SCARED BY INSANITY! BWAHAHAHA-HAAACK! *coughs* Ahem... I don't know why I'm so mean to Itey in this fic... I LOVE Itey. He and Skitts are tied for my second favorite. (Blink: Who's your favorite?) ... *stares* (Blink: .... oh.) Yeah. Anyway! MEEEEEP! Glad you likey! *giggles* Thanks for reviewing!

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Stage: STAGEY-LOVE! *flying tackle glomps* Yesh, Snitch's bitchy stepsister needs to be slapped. *pouts* *cackles* I love your little scronking song. *cackles again* I despise soap operas, which is precisely why I made Marcel a soap opera actor. I despise him. *glares* ^^ BUT I LURVE YOU! *tackle glomps again*

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Shot Hunter: Yesh, I heart TIAEAIS. *beams and huggles* YAY, RANDOM COLLEGE TALK! *grins wildly* I usually have my IMs off, but I'll say "yo!" if I ever have them on. ^_^ LOVE! 

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Shortie: I feel bad about making Mush so stupid, I really do. *sniffles* But it's kinda a necessary part of his character. *le sigh* ANYWAY! I know how it feels. You, Miss Shortie, are a faboo author. And you rock. Hard. And short reviews are FUN! *beams* Tankies!

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Wand: There's really barely ANY Race/Blink fics out there. In fact, the only other one I can think of was written by Lute... forgot the title... but, anyway! You really like my fic better than the movie? XDDD SANKYUUUUUU! You'd probably like the movie better if Natasha Lyone (Megan) wasn't such an awful actress... *twitches* But, thanks for the LOVERLY review and may many hugs fly your way as well! *beams*

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Ginny Jake: *does the Go Skittery dance* Skitts can be hardcore when he wants to. YAY, SKITTS! *glomps Skittery* Much tankiness for reviewing!

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Colleen: SNAPS FOR COLLEEN! My homeroom made a Snap Cup, and I offerred to make a Slap Cup. Bridget's in my homeroom, and we both died laughing while everyone else stared at us. But, anyway... I MISS YOU GUYS! *sobs and hugs* But, anyway. Thanks for the review. Much heart-age, Colleeny-beenie.

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Demon: *huge grin* YOU LIKE! YEEEES! *does a victory dance* Sorry, I'm such a loser. I get so excited when people say that they like my fics. ^_^;;; Anyway... back to the subject. I've read "Outkasts." It's probably my favorite _Newsies_ fic ever. Lute is my GODDESS! AND SHE KNOWS IT! *shakes fist in Lute's general direction* Ahem! Thank you so, SO much for the absolutely LOVERLY review!

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Person: Oh, erm... thanks, whoever you are! ^_^;;; 

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geometrygal: I ADORE Race/Blink. And I'm Catholic myself! ^_^;;; YAY, CATHOLICS! Tankies for reviewing!

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Thistle: YAY! Okay, I'm definitely uber-glad that you're reading this because I luffle your fics! A lot! *grins widely* Oh, and Jack will be in this... later... *evil cackle* I'm so mean to Medda and Mush, which I feel bad about because I like them. Mean to Davey, too, but I'm always mean to Davey. ^_^ UBER-thanks for the review!

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hilaRyB: Have I mentioned that you're my favorite reviewer? Seriously. The highlight of my day is reading your review. Oh, and I'm gonna steal SweetGoth!Dutchy. Seriously. I've got a nice little box and everything. *evil cackle* Anyway. You already know what I think of your fics ("Vaudeville!" *convulses with love*), so we'll skip that. ^^ Here to accept your proposal are BIAP's official muses, UberGoth!Itey-Muse and Pantless!Blink-Muse!

UG!IM: *glares*

P!BM: ... I'm cold.

*pokes* Get on with it!

UG!IM: *sighs* *rolls eyes* Hilary, we, the musies of the freak called Sita, do hereby accept your proposal on behalf of the story, "But I'm a Prep!"

P!BM: Damn. That sounded professional.

UG!IM: I'm reading off the prompter, moron.

P!BM: *rolls eyes* *pulls out a ring made of used chewing gum, shoelaces, and a strand of Paul McCartney's hair* Enjoy.

*grins* The honeymoon's up to you, dearie! And many thanks for the review!

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H.W.O: RENT IS GOD! *dies* But it looks as though you're... pretty busy (understatement), so I'll make this short. MUCH LOVE! *tackle glomps*

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Twitch: *dodges potato* Oh, go away! *cries* NO LOVE FOR YOU! ... okay, love for you. ^_^ You know I HAD to make Mush a moron - it's Rock's character! And, yesh, that's my mom. ^^ AND I'LL BE MEAN TO DAVEY IF I WANT! *sticks out tongue* *beams* Much love, dearie.

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J-Sparrow: LOVE! *tackle glomps* I heart you, you know that? COMING TO SF IN A MONTH, WOO! XDDD Anyway. Sankyuu for the loverly review! *giggles*

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Q: ... about how I love your reviews. Okay, you and Hilary are officially tied for my favorite reviewers of all time. *grins* LOST BOYS, YEEEEEEAH! I luffle you. A lot. *many many glomps*

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The Omniscient Bookseller: MEEP! SO glad you like it! XDDD Unfortunately, I don't think there's any way I can possibly fit in more characters... *cries* But if that changes, I'll be sure to tell you! *many hugs* Thank you SO much for the review!

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Janel/Speed/Yoko/FACE: *flying tackle glomps* It's a-okay! Take your time, dearie! ^^ And sankyuu! I was so proud of my one little first-place award. *giggles* I love you. You know that, right? I love you like a FAT KID LOVES CAKE! *flying tackle glomps again*

That's all for me, kids. *grins* Know what makes me really happy? REVIEEEEEEWS! And a major shout-out to reviewer number 100! *bounces away*


	7. Chapter Six: Field Trip

*appears in a puff of smoke* *coughs* Ahem... sorry. Tanytway, greetings, world! *beams and waves* Guess what we did last chapter? THAT'S RIGHT! WE BROKE A HUNDRED! *throws confetti* And the 100th reviewer was none other than my very favorite, one-hundred-percent Italian, Jack-obsessed dancer, RAVEN! *tackle glomps Raven* Much love, sweetie! XD Well, everyone, welcome to chapter six of But I'm a Prep! This is one of my favorite parts of the movie, so this is probably going to be my favorite chapter. And I have a feeling it's gonna be a lot of other people's favorites, too. ^____^ ON WITH THE CHAPPIE!

Disclaimers: Sita owns nothing, except for Mayfly. Yay, short disclaimers!

Warnings: Language, underage drinking (^_^;;), slash

#NOTE: This chapter is dedicated to Hilary, BIAP's loving husband. We all love and miss you, dearie. MUCH LOVE! LOOOOOOOVE FOR THE HIL!#

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But I'm a Prep!

Chapter Six

The next five days absolutely _sucked_.

Sure, Medda was hard on us before, and she'd watched us like a hawk from the very beginning. But this... this was a _completely_ different level. Every night, she'd check to make sure that we were in bed at ten-thirty sharp, then check back at midnight, two, and four, right on the dot. I don't think she even slept any more, because she'd developed quite a lovely left eye twitch. During the day we'd try to act like we normally would, but it was pretty damn hard. Everywhere we went, everyone we talked to, everything we did... she saw. It was _creepy_.

I really didn't have it that bad, though. Although we never once mentioned the incident in the Screening Room, Racetrack and I got to the point where we could openly refer to ourselves as "friends," which I liked. A lot (oh, shut up, stop laughing!). And we had a very amusing time driving our oh-so-lovely and talented instructors so crazy that even Satan herself started to dread having to teach us the ways of heterosexuality.

But the others... well, they didn't have it as good.

Even though Heels hadn't been the most sociable girl in the world, pretty much everyone had liked her (except for Itey, who didn't like anyone). And everyone had _really_ liked Snitch. So, pretty much the entire teenage population of True Directions was bummed. But Mandy... oh, God. I felt _so_ bad for the poor kid. It was like she couldn't even _think_ any more. And, honestly, I don't think she could. When she lost Heels, she turned into some kind of little robot or puppet or something. Her eyes were _blank_. Completely and totally blank. And that scared me. She went to class and participated in Medda's stupid anti-gay activities, but she wasn't really _there_, you know? Whenever she had free time, we'd find her sitting under the same oak tree behind the Training Building, staring off into space, and brushing her hair like Heels used to do for her (Heels had been absolutely obsessed with Mandy's hair). We tried to snap her out of it, but she wouldn't even look at us, let alone speak.

Skittery? No one knew how Skittery was; he'd been locked in the Doghouse for a week. I could only hope that he was doing okay, though common sense told me that he was probably _far_ from "okay."

_Nobody_ at True Directions was "okay" that week. We'd all lost some friends.

And, yes, we were all friends. Every last one of us. How could we not be? We'd gone through stuff that no teenager should have to go through. Hell, no _adult_ should have to go through it, either. We'd experienced real discrimination. It's insane that people are judged every single day by their gender or skin color or, in our case, sexual orientation. What's more is that they're judged by people who don't even fucking know them! And I _knew_. That's what makes me really sick. I _knew_ it was happening every day, everywhere, but I never raised a finger to try and stop it until it happened to me. I never even _thought_ about how much it was happening to everyone else.

Well, have you?

Probably not.

You know, maybe you should.

*~*~*

"You got it?" I glanced over at Race who'd already managed to chuck his massive garbage bag into the dumpster (the _blue_ dumpster, of course; heaven forbid that we put it into the _pink_ dumpster right next to it), despite being really frickin' short.

With a slightly animalistic grunt, I swung back and hurled it upwards.

It missed the dumpster completely.

Race choked back a laugh.

"Oh, shut up," I grumbled.

"Does da wittle baby need help getting da big, bad twash bag into da gawbage?"

"Kiss my ass."

"Shave it first."

"I hate you."

"I know." With a quiet laugh, he picked up the bag and effortlessly tossed it into the dumpster. I rolled my eyes and playfully smacked him upside the head as we started our trek back towards the boys' dorm.

"God, how'd you ever make friends back in the real world?"

"I didn't," he replied nonchalantly, plucking a cigarette out of his pocket. "You want one?"

"No, I don't smoke. You didn't have friends?" Race snorted before popping the cigarette into his mouth.

"Of course I didn't. I was 'that Italian asshole," which, as I recall, has also been _your_ nickname for me last month."

"Sorry about that."

"Eh, s'okay. It's nothing that I haven't gotten before. It's pretty much all I'd hear from the steroid-enhanced jocks and the bulimic cheer-" He stopped in mid-sentence and looked at me sharply before staring back at the ground.

I believe an explanation is in order.

The joking cheer that we'd done ("two, four, six, eight, God is good, God is straight!") had progressed into a bit of a running gag where one of us would slip into "cheerleader mode" and talk like a stereotypical valley girl ("like, totally!") and pretend to do cartwheels. It was stupid but amusing. All the joking had eventually led to me telling him about Zooey and how I felt really bad that she had to find out about me being gay through Smartass, the school gossip. From then on, he'd tried his hardest not to say anything bad about cheerleaders, knowing how much I cared about Zooey.

He usually failed miserably, but, hey, he tried. And that really did mean a lot to me.

I gave him a half-smile.

"Go ahead. Say it." He smiled back and shook his head.

"I... I didn't."

Dammit, why'd he have to be so fucking cute?!

"Thanks." He smiled and lit his cigarette before trudging along with his hands in his pockets. I quickly glanced up at the full moon before staring back down at my shoes.

Yay, awkward silences.

"So what about you?" I raised an eyebrow.

"What about me what?"

"Friend-wise, I mean." I frowned and thought about it for a few seconds.

"I thought I had friends. I really did. I mean, I was one of the 'popular guys,' you know? So I figured that I had lots of friends. But not one of them has tried to contact me or anything. They don't really seem to care." Racetrack smirked mirthlessly.

"It's kinda funny. You _popular_ kids really don't understand what the deal is, do you?" I blinked.

"Guess not."

"If you're popular, nobody actually likes you. Other popular kids don't like you because they're too busy worrying about themselves. But they pretend to like you because that's the socially acceptable thing to do. The unpopular kids don't like you because they think you're asses. But they pretend to like you because they think everyone else does. It's the craziest system I've ever heard of."

I stared at the ground.

"Oh. Wow."

"Sorry, guess I was a little blunt, huh?"

"That's okay. At least you're honest." He grinned sheepishly as we scurried up the stoop to the front door. At the same time, we reached for the doorknob and our hands met.

We looked at each other for a few seconds. Just kinda looked. I don't know what he was thinking of, but the phrase running through my mind was something along the lines of, "holy _crap_, he's gorgeous..." And there was _something_ there. You know how, sometimes, when you walk into a room with two people who hate each other, you can _feel_ the tension in the air? That's kinda like what this was, but it wasn't tension. Well, it was _like_ tension, but it wasn't. Confusing, much?

Then he blinked, and whatever it was that had been there was gone.

Without another word, he turned the doorknob and headed inside.

Was he... _blushing_?

I felt a slow grin spread across my face as I followed him in and shut the door quietly behind me.

*~*~*

I opened my eye blearily and glanced around the room. The clock on the wall informed me that it was about quarter to twelve.

I blinked and frowned at the noise coming from the bathroom. It definitely sounded like more than one person was in there. They were talking quietly and rapidly.

Something was _definitely_ going on.

I scratched my head as I struggled to my feet and padded towards the door. I opened it and winced as the light streamed into my very unprepared eyes.

"Well, look who decided to join us."

I scrubbed the sleep out of my eye and squinted at Spot and Racetrack.

"What are you guys doing?" I mumbled, yawning.

"It's Saturday!" Spot shrieked.

"You wanna get us caught?!"

"Sorry... it's Saturday! Are you coming?" He waved a vaguely familiar neon pink flier in my face. Quite suddenly, I remembered Ireland telling me about the little "field trip" that her neighbor had set up.

I frowned.

"I don't know guys..."

"Aw, come on!" Race said, grinning as he pulled on a rather tight black shirt boasting the words "Dashboard Confessional."

"Never pegged you for an emo fan, Race."

"Oh, shut up," he muttered. He smirked at me before struggling into a pair of baggy black jeans.

"So, are you coming or not?" Spot asked impatiently, twirling part of his maroon feather boa.

.... feather boa?

I decided to take the time to study Spot's outfit.

He was wearing a pair of tight, black shorts. They were so tiny, they rivaled those of Mush and Davey, which I didn't think was possible. His shirt was tight and ended quite a few inches above where it should have ended, not to mention the fact that it was _silver_. And let's not forget the glitter. Then, to top it all off, was the aforementioned maroon feather boa.

"... how the _hell_ did you manage to sneak that in here?" Spot cocked his head to the side.

"What do you mean?" He blinked, then grinned in realization. "Ooooh, you mean this thing? Secret compartment in my suitcase." He twirled around. "Ain't I _sex-ay_?"

"No, you're just an idiot."

"Oh, girl, no you di-ennnt!" Spot said, snapping his fingers. Racetrack rolled his eyes and pulled on a black cabby hat.

"You never answered me, Blink," he stated, completely ignoring Spot. "You coming or not?" I bit my lip.

"I don't think so. I mean, if we get caught, we're screwed. And I don't wanna get booted with just a month left." Racetrack sighed.

"Whatever," he grumbled. He brushed past me, looking a bit annoyed, with Spot at his heels.

I sighed and trudged back to my bed. For a few minutes, I laid there, hoping to God that they wouldn't get caught.

And then I realized something.

If Race and Spot got busted, they were out. And it'd be just me and Skittery (once he got back) in the room. And no offense to Skitts, but it'd be pretty damn depressing to be stuck in a room with him all day.

Besides, I was seventeen. I needed to live a little.

So, I got up, pulled on a pair of jeans and one of those shirts with stupid messages on them ("The beatings will continue until morale improves"), brushed my teeth at light speed, and headed for the door.

What's the worst that could happen?

*~*~*

I crept through the night, constantly glancing over my shoulder.

_This was a baaaad idea, Blink. What have you gotten yourself into?_

Right when I was thinking about turning back, I felt someone poke me in the shoulder.

I believe my scream went something like this: "AGAYAAAH!"

"You're gonna get us caught, monkey-child!" Q mumbled, twitching violently. "Quickly! To the get-away-mobile! WHOOSH!" With that, she darted towards a large, black van at the gates of True Directions.

I reluctantly followed her and jumped in, just as someone was about to close the doors.

"Look who's here!" Race said with a grin. I rolled my eyes and grinned back as I settled into the seat next to him.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," I muttered. I squinted and glanced around the van to see who had decided to come. Race and Spot. Itey (whoop-de-doo). Q. Speed. Chaser. And I think I saw Stage sitting on the floor.

The guy in the passenger's seat turned around and smiled politely at us. His hair was wavy and black, and he wore glasses.

"Hi, everybody!" he said pleasantly.

"HI, SPECS!" Stage crowed. The boy grinned and rolled his eyes.

"Hello, Stage. For those of you who don't know me, my name's Donovan, but people tend to call me Specs for obvious reasons. And this," he stated, pointing to the blond boy in the driver's seat, "would be Lucas, or Dutchy."

"Yo." Dutchy grinned and waved before putting the car into drive and pulling off.

"Specs and Dutchy are ex-ex-gays," Race informed me.

"Oh, yeah, Ireland told me that you guys used to be at TD." Specs shuddered visibly.

"Oh, God, don't remind me."

"We're lucky that we wised up and ran off before we went completely nuts," Dutchy said gravely.

"So, what, you're saying that we should all run?" Chaser asked inquisitively. Specs shook his head.

"Nah, it's not about that. It's about what you want. Some people wanna be who they are. Other people have to keep it hidden. We're about showing you other options so that you know which one you want to do." He grinned, slightly evilly. "Of course, we also want you to have fun in the process."

"So, you guys run, like... the underground homo railroad?" I asked innocently. Race, along with most of the other kids in the van, burst into laughter. Specs fought back a snicker.

"I guess you could put it that way." He reached quickly into the glove compartment and removed a short stack of plastic rectangles - ID's. "It won't be an exact match," he said, studying us intently before glancing back at the pictures, "but it'll do, I think." He smiled cheerily before handing me one with a guy who actually looked a good bit like me, except for the whole patch thing.

"Should I lose the patch?" Race raised an eyebrow.

"You can take it off?" I frowned.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I'm not horribly disfigured under there or anything." I reached up, calmly slipped my eye patch off, and placed it in my pocket.

It'd been a while since I'd taken the thing off (besides showering; most of the time, I even left the damn thing on to sleep), so the left side of my face was quite pleased to be able to breathe again. I scrubbed at my left eye, which was a much lighter blue than my right one, and sat back in my seat. Race leaned forward to take his I.D. from Specs before he glanced at me.

And, I swear to God, his jaw _dropped_.

I frowned.

"What?" He didn't answer for a few seconds. He just kinda stared at me.

You know, he said it so quietly, that I could barely hear him. Nobody else did, that's for sure. And the funniest thing is, I don't even think _he_ realized he said it. But he did.

"My, God... you're fuckin' _gorgeous_..."

My heart pretty much stopped at that point.

_Did... did he just say I was...?_

I tried to say something, believe me I did. But nothing came out. Not a damn sound. So, I had to settle for staring at him in shock while he stared back with pretty much the same expression.

I was suddenly kicked sharply in the shins. Wincing from the pain, I glanced behind me to find Itey glaring murderously at me.

Okay, so I guess someone else _did_ hear...

"This is it, guys!" Dutchy called.

"WOO-HOO!" Speed cheered.

"Shut up, Speed."

"Shut up, Chaser." They then proceeded to stick their tongues down each other's throats.

"Is anyone else feeling the Zazu and Sully vibes?" Stage questioned from the back.

"Huh?"

"Zazu and Sully? SNL? Rachel Dratch and Jimmy Fallon?"

We stared blankly.

Stage sighed.

"'You're queeah.' 'You are.' And then they make out."

"OOOOOOH!"

"Hey, guys, we're gonna pick you up at, like, two, okay?" Specs stated. "Ireland offered to do the two A.M check on you guys, so Medda won't be in your rooms until four. Sound good?"

"Awesome."

"Rock."

"SCHMORGESBOURDE!"

"Thank you, Q."

"Okay, we'll see you guys then!" 

We all piled out of the nondescript van and watched as Dutchy and Specs drove off. I turned to face the building that we were in front of and stopped dead in my tracks.

It was small and smoky, and I could hear bad techno music blaring from the inside. On the side of the brick wall was a massive rainbow sign that blared the word COCKSUCKER. A rather large, stone rooster sat in front of it.

A gay bar. Lovely.

"I can't believe I'm going to a gay bar," I muttered as I trudged inside after Spot.

"Where else would we go?" Race asked quizzically.

"Point taken."

I wrinkled my nose at the smell of smoke. I could barely see five feet in front of me. A rather long bar sat at the opposite end of the large room where I could vaguely see a boy and a girl playfully tossing a glass to one another. People were dancing lewdly to really horrible techno music and making out at random intervals.

Race put his hand on my shoulder and cocked his head towards the bar.

"Come on, we're gonna get something to drink."

"I don't drink."

"You do now." He grinned mischievously, grabbed my arm, and dragged me towards the bar where I noticed Spot with his lips attached to the lips of the bartender. "Having fun?" Race muttered sarcastically. Spot blinked and pulled away, beaming.

"Race, Blink, this is my boyfriend, Jack." Jack grinned and tipped his cowboy hat. "Jack, these are my friends, Blink and Race." We exchanged the customary "nice to meet you" banter until a girl with long auburn hair came up behind Jack and smacked him playfully on the head with a dish towel.

"Move your lazy ass, Jacky-boy," she reprimanded playfully. "Go over there and take those nice gentlemen's orders."

"Yes, _Mother_," he called over his shoulder as he trudged towards the other end of the bar. The girl grinned and shook her head before turning her gaze to us.

"Friends of Spot's?" she asked light-heartedly. We nodded as she amiably extended her hand. "The name's Michelle, but call me Raven." She smiled and leaned forward on the bar. "So, what can I get for you kids?"

"Three rum and cokes," Race said nonchalantly as he popped a cigarette into his mouth. He raised an eyebrow as he noticed Spot and Jack playing tonsil hockey on top of the bar. "Better make that two. Spot looks like he's a bit busy." Raven chuckled as she reached beneath the bar to grab the necessary ingredients, whatever they were. I'd never drank a rum and coke in my life. As a matter of fact, I'd never really drank _anything_, except for a sip of wine every now and then at a wedding or something.

"Those two..." Raven muttered fondly. "I set them up, you know. The three of us have been like _this_ for years," she said, crossing her fingers to make her point. After a few seconds of pouring and mixing and flipping and various other bar-type tricks, she pushed two glasses towards us. "It's on me," she said with a grin as Race and I both reached for our wallets. "You're stuck with Spot; you deserve a little something back for putting up with him."

"I HEARD THAT!"

Raven snickered. "_Spoco pervertito_." Race started laughing and proceeded to choke oh-so-gracefully on his drink.

"What'd she say?"

"She just called him a dirty pervert." Raven grinned and flipped her hair behind her ears.

"I better go drag my colleague off of the bar. Just yell if you need anything." With a flippant wave, she sauntered over to the opposite end of the bar.

For a few seconds, the two of us just sort of sat in silence, watching everyone drinking and dancing. It was sort of nice, if you ignored the blood spouting from your ears due to the awful music. But, a few seconds later, the song ended and a rather nice, slower song came on.

Quite suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Glancing up, I saw a reasonably tall, good-looking guy with almost-black hair and eyes nearly the same color.

"Wanna dance?" he asked quietly.

I blinked in surprise before laughing nervously and clearing my throat.

"Oh, erm, no thanks. Thanks, though! But no thanks." The dark-haired guy shrugged.

"No problem. Just thought I'd ask." With that, he turned and started to slip back through the crowd. 

Racetrack stared at me incredulously.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Huh?"

"He asked you to dance. What, you can't dance with a guy for three seconds?"

"Race-"

"Go catch him, you dork! Live a little!" I rolled my eyes and set down my drink.

"Fine, fine..." I clambered to my feet and jogged after the guy. After what seemed like a really long time, I caught up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. "Er... sorry, I don't usually dance, but if you still want to..." He smiled.

"Sure. I'm Phase."

"Blink." With that, he slipped his arms around my waist like we'd known each other all our lives. I tensed up a little. I mean, come on, I'd never seriously danced with another guy in my life. Not even one of my friends, let alone a complete stranger. But after a few seconds, I sorta relaxed into it. It was sorta nice.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Itey dancing with Race. And that kinda pissed me off. But I figured that I'd ignore them.

It was about then that Itey caught me staring. He smiled evilly before slowly and deliberately moving his hand to Racetrack's ass.

Something inside me sort of... exploded at that point. 

I jerked away from Phase and stalked out of the bar's back door without even looking back.

I found myself in a dank alley, strewn with various old boxes and other forms of trash. I paced around in a circle for a few seconds, staring at the ground.

_Don't cry, Blink. Don't cry. Do NOT fucking cry..._

"Dammit," I hissed as a single tear trailed down my cheek. I leaned my head against the cool, stone wall of the bar and just kinda sat there for a few seconds. When that didn't do anything productive, I punched the wall, which made me feel a bit better, though my hand hurt like a bitch afterwards.

"Blink," a voice said quietly. I whirled around to face Racetrack. I gottta admit, he looked like he wanted to kick himself. "Blink, we weren't doing anything, I swear to God."

"You weren't _doing anything_?! He was grabbing your fucking ass, Race, don't tell me you weren't _doing anything_!"

"It's not like I _told_ him to do it!"

"You sure didn't look like you were gonna do anything to stop it!" By this time, I was crying pretty damn hard, though I didn't realize it. Race crossed his arms and just sorta stood there, alternating between looking pissed and hurt.

"Why does it bother you so much?"

I froze.

"What?"

"Why does what I do with Itey bother you so much, Blink?"

Now, what the hell was I supposed to say to that? "Because I've got a massive-ass crush on you, and I'm jealous as all hell?" I think not.

"It's none of my business," I said, smiling mirthlessly and focusing my attention on a torn-up cardboard box. "Do whatever the hell you want."

Race was silent.

"You want me to do what I want?" he asked quietly. I glanced sharply at him.

"I couldn't possibly care less."

"What I _really_ want?" My eyes narrowed.

"Screw y-"

I wanted to finish that sentence. Truly, I did.

But after he grabbed me and kissed me, I sort of lost interest in what I was saying.

After a few seconds of standing there in shock, I did the only logical thing that I could think of: I shut my eyes and started to kiss him back.

We only broke apart when we realized that we couldn't breathe any more.

Simultaneously, we collapsed onto the broken-down bench near the dumpster.

"That... that was..."

"Amazing," Race finished softly. I looked at him for a bit and smiled sheepishly.

"Can we do that again?" Race grinned, leaned forward, and gently brushed his lips against mine.

A few minutes later, I was pretty sure I heard the door open. And I was pretty sure that I heard someone who sounded an awful lot like Itey mutter, "son of a bitch." And I was _definitely_ sure that I heard the aforementioned door slam again.

But I was so... busy... that I really didn't give a damn.

*~*~*

The ride home was interesting.

I was half-asleep with my head in Race's lap, which was nice, especially since he was kinda stroking my hair. We had to deal with the catcalls and the teasing, of course, but that was to be expected. Every time I looked up, Itey would glare at me and demand to know what I was gawking at.

We got home at about three and had to sneak into our rooms through the window in the garden. Why? Well... let's just say that we saw Davey and Mush on the front stoop doing something that Medda _definitely_ would have deemed inappropriate. It was actually sorta funny.

Just as we reached the window, Ireland skidded around the corner.

"Guys, get inside, quick!" she whispered frantically. "Medda's up, and she heard you! She's coming to check! Go, go, go!" Spot, Race, and I immediately scrambled in through the window.

"We don't have time to change!" Spot hissed.

"Just get in bed and pull the blankets up all the way," Race replied. I took a flying leap into my own bed and buried my head under the blankets just as I heard the door creak open.

The room was absolutely silent for a few seconds.

Then, the door closed, and the footsteps we heard grew steadily fainter.

A hand suddenly pulled back my blanket, and I found myself staring up into Racetrack's eyes. He grinned, leaned over, and gently pressed his lips to mine.

"'Night," he whispered.

"G'night." He hopped back into his own bed, and I rolled over in an attempt to make myself more comfortable.

For the first time since I could remember, I fell asleep with a smile on my face and my eye patch off.

****

End Chapter Six

I don't think I'm happy with this chapter. At all. But, hey, what can you do? I might go back and rewrite it later; what do you guys think? No time for individual shout-outs today. I must post this before I go to bed. Next time, though, I promise! And reviews would be luuuuuuurvely! *love to all*


	8. Chapter Seven: Retaliation

Heya, everybody! WOO, TIME FOR MORE BIAP! *grins and dances* I watched _But I'm a Cheerleader_ again, and I think I have this figured out. Including this loverly chappie that you're reading right now, BIAP will have four more chapters. So, we're actually getting to the end. *sobs* But, don't worry! I have another one in the works! It's uber-secret! *shifty eyes* But it actually takes place in 1899! (Pantless!Blink-Muse: Unlike most of your fics...) Shaddup. Anyway! Do please send me a review. I'd love you foreeeeever! *smiles and attempts to look cute*

Disclaimers: If Sita owned _Newsies_, do you REALLY think it would be a PG movie? 

Warnings: Language, slash

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But I'm a Prep!

Chapter Seven

"Come on, Paul, I just want you to think about it a little harder."

"But I've been thinking about it since the first day! I don't have any fucking root!"

"Watch your language, Paul."

I groaned and slouched down in my seat.

"Shoot me," I muttered to myself.

For the first time since I could remember, the boys and the girls of True Directions were assembled in the same room. Well, except for Swifty and Mandy, who were sick, and Skittery, who was still in the Doghouse. David was picking on Spot, trying to figure out his "root," while everyone else sort of pretended to pay attention.

Oh, I was paying attention, all right. Just not to David.

I was more interested in the fact that my boyfriend's hand was inconspicuously creeping up my leg.

Yes, _boyfriend_. My _boyfriend_.

Say it with me now. _Boyfriend_. Don't it feel _good_ to say it?

****

Yeah. It does.

"Come on, Paul, I think if you just-"

"I'm a heterosexual."

Everyone sort of stopped what they were doing right about then. Even Race took his hand off my leg.

Then, slowly, we all turned our heads to gawk at Colleen.

She was staring, wide-eyed, at the wall in front of her.

"I'm a heterosexual," she repeated quietly.

David laughed dryly.

"No, hon, you're not quite there yet. But almost!" Colleen glanced up sharply, her hazel eyes flashing behind her glasses.

"You don't get it. I've never _been_ gay! It's all been _her_!"

"Who?"

"Maureen! But she's gone! She's out! She disappeared a week ago! _That's how pathetic you people are!_" Colleen shrieked, on the verge of hysterics. She glared daggers at David even as tears started gushing down her cheeks. "She couldn't take any more of your _crap_, so she left! And now it's just me here! Me, all alone! AND I. AM. NOT. GAY!" David shot her a skeptical look as she sniffled loudly, wiping her eyes. "I just want a guy! A nice, sweet guy with a nice, big-"

"Amen, sister," Spot muttered quietly, leaning back in his chair.

Colleen burst out into tears again and raced out of the room. 

"I QUIT!" Her screech echoed from all the way down the hall. 

We sat in silence for a few seconds before David shook his head, frowning.

"Who the hell does she think she's trying to fool?" With that, he hopped to his feet, tugged down his booty shorts, and jogged out of the room. "Come on, Colleen, come back!"

Now, _that's_ ironic, Alanis.

"Poor kid," Bebop muttered under her breath.

"So what do we do now?" Bumlets asked quietly.

"No teacher. Guess we should go!" Mayfly yelled cheerfully.

"Not a chance, Miss Bennett. Sit back down."

Medda's voice was so cold that it took the smile off of Mayfly's face.

She walked into the room with a look in her eyes that could have frozen fire.

"I want to know," she said slowly, "who is going to tell me where the _hell_ this came from." She held up a small box of matches with a rainbow and the word "Cocksucker" on the cover.

Shit.

Medda glared at us all in turn. "Well? I'm waiting." None of us answered. I mean, come on, you think we're stupid? "Fine. Dean, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Race's head snapped up.

"What are you talking about?" he snarled. "Why are you looking at me?"

"Because these were under _your_ bed."

He didn't even flinch. Admirable. Very, very admirable.

"So?"

"So, _did you sneak out_?"

"No. I didn't, for your information." It was pretty damn clear that Medda wasn't buying it, but I could practically see the little wheels in his thick skull turning. "But, I did realize something about myself. Something important."

Medda raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I've got a crush. On Janel."

I blinked.

"Say _what_?" Race completely ignored Speed's snorts of laughter, Chaser's death glare, and me, in general. He just concentrated on Medda.

"It's the first time I've ever really felt something for a girl, yanno? And it just proved that the program's really working."

Medda just sort of stood there for a few seconds.

Then, her eyes got huge and filled themselves with big, sparkling, cartoonish tears right before she latched onto my boyfriend like some kind of massive leech.

"Oh, Dean, that's _wonderful_!" she cried. Racetrack kept smiling, but it looked _seriously_ fake this time. "I am so proud of you!" She glanced sharply at the rest of us. "I want you all to take a lesson from Dean. I hope you all know that I'm _extremely_ disappointed in the rest of you, and I've scheduled a meeting with all of your parents." She finally detached herself from Race and walked briskly out of the room.

A meeting with my _parents_?

Oh, great. Wonderful. Life was good.

Yay, sarcasm.

Sighing softly, I trudged out of the room towards the next portion of my own personal hell.

*~*~*

I stood nervously outside of Medda's office, chewing absent-mindedly on my fingernail.

"I swear to God, Ma, I didn't go to the Cocksucker!" Pie's voice was annoyed and slightly panicked. "I've never _been_ to the Cocksucker! My Cocksucking days are over!"

"You're not gonna tell your parents, are you?" Race whispered. I sighed.

"I think I have to."

"Why the hell do you have to?!"

"I have major issues about lying to my parents."

"Goody two-shoes," he muttered affectionately, shooting me a half-smile. I kinda smiled back and, for a few seconds, we just kinda sat there and smiled at each other as he gently rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand.

And then the door opened, so we had to jump apart rather quickly.

"Isaac. Come in."

I winced at the sound of my name and clambered to my feet. I brushed past a red-faced Pie Eater as I trudged into Medda's office. The door shut behind me with a foreboding clicking noise.

"Hello, Isaac."

I felt my heart drop into my shoes when I saw the two figures sitting on either side of Medda's big, black desk. As if my day couldn't get any worse.

One of them was my father. Hey, I'd been expecting that. He was sitting stiffly in one of Medda's poofy chairs staring blankly at me.

But it wasn't my mom sitting in the other chair. Nor were the twins, Mom's usual replacements, there. Oh, no.

It was Ira, my _favorite_ brother in the universe.

Oh, joy, rapture, and other such synonyms.

"Please, Isaac, have a seat," Medda said solemnly, gesturing to the poofy, purple chair facing the three of them. I reluctantly settled into it, but sat on the very edge in case I had to make a quick exit.

"Now, Isaac, we know that you didn't have anything to do with this," Ira said, idly cleaning his glasses as he spoke.

"Of course he didn't," my father added gruffly. "He isn't stupid enough to do that. He knows how embarrassed I'd be."

"But, if you _had_ gone-"

"If you _had_ gone, you'd be out."

I blinked.

"W-What?"

"You'd be out of the house. I can't have a... a _faggot_ for a son. You'd be on your own."

... you know, I always knew it would hurt. Really. I did. I knew that as soon as I got out of TD and into the real world, there would be homophobes who'd call me all kinds of stupid names.

But I never knew it'd hurt that much.

Then again, I never knew that I'd be getting that kind of abuse from my own father.

I felt my lunch rising in my throat as my father stared stonily at me, and Ira nodded in agreement, looking like some kind of bobble-head doll.

"Now, Isaac, is there anything you'd like to tell your father and brother?"

I stared at them for a few seconds.

"You don't have anything to worry about, Father," I heard myself say flatly. "I really think the program is working. I'm thinking about Bridget all the time, and I can't wait to be normal again."

I sounded so mechanical that I can't believe they bought it. But, they did. Just goes to show you that parents don't always know as much as they claim to know.

My father actually _smiled_. It was the first time I'd seen him smile in months, but it made me sick to my stomach.

"That's good to hear, son." Son. _Son_, he calls me. When did he start acknowledging the fact that I was his son? "Don't let me down."

"I won't." My father and Ira somehow managed to stand up at exactly the same time, vaguely reminding me of some sort of circus act. They both shook hands with Medda, and, though Ira headed straight for the door, the guy I referred to as "Father" stayed behind to clap me on the shoulder before walking briskly out.

I think that's the most affection he's ever shown towards me. Definitely the most that I can remember.

For a few seconds, I just kinda sat there and stared blankly at the wall. What else could I do? Granted, my father wasn't the greatest dad in the world, but I never thought he'd shun me because I didn't live up to the standards in his perfect, little world.

Finally, I got up and trudged out the door.

Race blinked at me as Bebop walked past, already wincing at the high-pitched shrieks emanating from the freakishly skinny woman I assumed was her mother. 

"You okay?" I stared at him before smiling mirthlessly.

"Have I _ever_ been _okay_?"

I walked towards the boys' dorm as quickly as I could, ignoring the feeling of Racetrack's eyes boring into my back.

*~*~*

"Oh, get a fuckin' room."

"C'mon, Spot, you know you love us."

"Yeah, I love you both, but put your shirt back on, Higgins."

Race grinned down at me and gave me a quick kiss before rolling off of my stomach.

"You know you want me." Spot rolled his eyes and slapped Race on the ass.

"I _know_ you ain't touchin' my man, baby," I warned. Spot responded with a stereotypical ghetto snap.

"What if I am, girl?"

Just as Spot and I were about to jump into a fake cat fight (which would have been _extremely_ amusing), the door opened, and Skittery walked in.

His hair was messed up and pretty nasty-looking. He had dirt smudged all over his face and clothes, and he was barefoot. But the worst were his eyes. They weren't exactly blank, like Mandy's. They were just... dark. They looked like the eyes of someone who's given up. Which, now that I think of it, he probably had.

We just stared at him.

Without a word Spot walked over to him and gave him a hug. I felt like I should do the same, but Skittery didn't even _move_ when Spot touched him. I figured that it probably wasn't a good idea to have too many people on him at once.

"You gonna be okay, Skitts?"

He shook his head, which made me feel like the lowest form of pond scum on the planet.

"Skittery... I know this won't do a damn thing to make you feel any better, but I'm so, so sorry," I heard myself say. Skittery focused on me for a few seconds before smiling weakly.

"S'okay," he whispered.

"Do you hate me?"

"No." Spot smiled at us both, obviously relieved.

"Skitts, hon, go take a shower. You'll feel a little better, maybe." Skittery trudged slowly towards the bathroom without speaking. Without _blinking_.

"He looks _horrible_," I whispered, shocked.

"What did you expect?" Race replied before buttoning his shirt. "The Doghouse doesn't have any electricity or running water or _anything_. Skittery's been living in total darkness with no shower or toilet or anything even remotely modern. The building doesn't even have a floor, from what I understand. Just the grass."

My jaw dropped. "That's... that's _inhumane_! Can't we call the cops about this or something?" Race shook his head.

"True Directions is a private organization," Spot said quietly. He glanced quickly at the bathroom door as the sound of running water echoed through the room. "The cops can't just burst in here without a good reason. And our word isn't a good reason." I sighed and chewed on my lip.

"How do you guys know all of this, anyway?"

"Swifty," they replied in unison. Ah, yes. Of course. Swifty.

A few minutes later, Skittery stepped out of the bathroom, clad in the familiar silky, blue pajamas.

"There's something you guys should know," he said quietly, scrubbing at his hair with a poofy, blue towel.

"What?"

"I heard Medda on the phone when she was dragging me out of the Doghouse. She was screaming at some guy she called 'Maurice.' I don't know what they were arguing about, but she said something along the lines of, 'if you wanna play dirty, we'll play dirty' and, 'you'll just see tomorrow.' She sounded pissed." He glanced up. "I've got a really bad feeling about this."

No one said anything. Spot picked at his fingernails, Racetrack busied himself by searching for his cigarettes, and I stared at the floor.

Why?

We didn't want to think about the fact that there was something seriously wrong.

But we knew. Oh, we definitely knew.

We just didn't know how bad it was gonna be.

*~*~*

"We're here!" Medda called in a sing-song voice as Davey pulled the giant pink and blue True Directions van to a stop. I glanced out of the window and raised an eyebrow.

The place was _huge_. That was the first thing I noticed. Second, it was very plain. Dark bricks, dark doors, nothing special about it at all. The only color came from a huge rainbow flag flying on a flagpole in the front yard.

"This, students, is the very type of organization that we're fighting against. The man who runs this group is trying to make homosexuality the norm! And we can't have that, can we, students?" No answer. "_Can we_?"

"No, Miss Medda."

"Good! Now, I want you all to grab a sign out of the trunk and start chanting!"

One by one, we piled out of the van and headed towards the back. I shot a confused glance at Racetrack who shrugged before taking his sign from Davey.

"Here you go, Isaac," the king of all that is denial-related said cheerily before handing me my own sign. I stared blankly at it. It was bright, neon blue and had "Adam and Eve, Not Adam and Steve" written on it.

I wanted to throw up. Especially when I caught a glimpse of Race's sign, which stated "Silly Faggots, Dicks are For Chicks."

Racetrack kept glancing from his sign to Medda with a mixture of horror and disgust on his face.

"What the _hell_ do you want us to do with these things?" Medda beamed broadly, grabbed a bright pink megaphone out of the trunk, and immediately stood on the front lawn.

"WE ARE HERE, WE'RE NOT QUEER, WE'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE!" she screamed loudly. "WE ARE HERE, WE'RE NOT- come on, children, chant with me!"

"This is _revolting_," Chaser hissed, throwing down her sign. "This absolutely disgusts me." The girls muttered their agreement. Even Stage, who never gets upset with _anyone_, was having trouble keeping her cool.

At that moment, a short, chubby girl with long, curly brown hair rode up on a black bicycle. She glanced at us, her green eyes widening in shock.

"Hey..." she muttered quietly. "Didn't I see you at the bar?" she asked, pointing at me and Race.

Race, without missing a beat, reached down, snatched up a rock, and hummed it at her.

"EEP!" the girl shrieked, rushing inside.

"Good shot, Dean!" Medda crowed.

"What'd you do that for?" I hissed, jabbing Racetrack in the side. He glared at me.

"She saw us kissing. What the hell was I supposed to do? Do you _wanna_ get caught?"

"Of course not, you dumb fuck, but that doesn't mean you have to throw rocks at her!"

"What the _hell_?!"

We glanced towards the front door. It had been flung wide open, and Specs and Dutchy were standing in front of it, dressed identically in grey camaflouge pants and white T-shirts.

Medda smiled coldly. "Lucas. Donovan. Get me Maurice, and get him _now_."

"You can't tell us what to do any more, Medda," Dutchy snarled. starting angrily towards Hitlerina. Specs quickly caught the back of his shirt.

"Dutchy, love, don't."

"Is there a problem?" 

The man at the door was a medium-sized man, not tall but not short either. He was dressed completely in the same grey camaflouge as Specs and Dutchy. His black fedora even boasted a band made of the stuff. He carried a long, shiny walking stick, but it didn't look as if he particularly needed it. He looked old, but not really. He was one of those people whose age you couldn't know for sure unless you outright asked them. He smiled broadly at Medda, who returned the expression with a stony frown.

"Why, Medda, it's been a while!"

"Maurice," she replied curtly.

"Specs, Dutchy, why don't you head inside?"

"You sure, Mr. Kloppman?"

"We'll stay and help."

"I'm sure. I've got it under control. Thank you, though." Reluctantly, Specs and Dutchy headed back into the house, glancing warily over their shoulders the whole time.

"So, Medda. This is your idea of teaching now, hm?"

"It's part of the process, Maurice."

"Now what process would that be? The process to homophobia?"

"My students are _not_ homophobic!"

"Of course they aren't! But if you had anything to do with it, they would be." Medda clutched her megaphone, her perfectly manicured nails digging into her palms.

"I swear to God, Maurice, one of these days, my students will take you down. It's amusing, isn't it? I plan on making the very people you want to protect the instigators of your downfall."

"I'd like to see you do that, Medda. Honestly. I would."

"Then you just wait because-"

Medda sorta stopped in mid-sentence when a drumstick hurtled out of the window and plunged into the ground.

We all glanced up at one of the second-story windows in shock. A girl with short, curly, reddish-blond hair was leaning out the window, glaring at Medda and wielding the matching drumstick in her hand.

"Get the fuck out of here, Medda!" she barked. "You're not welcome here!"

Medda gaped up at the girl, then recovered and pointed menacingly in her direction. "Kristen Hunter, don't you dare-"

WHAM! The other drumstick joined its partner a few inches from Medda's pink high heels.

"And I'm not the only one who plays drums here," the girl yelled, smirking. "I've got Rebel's sticks and Raven's, too, so I suggest you get the hell out of here before I use them."

Medda snarled up at her adversary before directing her glare to the old man, Mr. Kloppman. "This isn't over, Maurice," she hissed.

Mr. Kloppman smiled brightly. "Oh, I believe it is. Good day, Miss Larkson." 

With that Medda ordered us all back to the True Directions van, and we sped off towards the campus.

"That was fucked up," Racetrack muttered.

"That's an understatement," Skittery replied, tossing his sign over the back of his seat, a look of complete and total horror on his face.

I've gotta admit, that was definitely one of the worst experiences of my life, and it definitely screwed me up a bit. I guess it showed, too, because Slosh and Race (who were sitting on either side of me) kept asking me if I was okay the whole way home. Slosh even offered me some of her Lortab.

"You sure you're okay?"

"I'll live, Race. I'm just a little fucked up right now." Race grinned.

"You're _always_ fucked up."

"Thanks."

"No prob." He glanced ahead at Davey and Medda before placing a gentle kiss on my neck.

I felt a bit better after that and sat with a tiny smile on my face for the rest of the drive back.

*~*~*

Straight is Great. Hang In There.

Now, please, can someone tell me who in their right mind would put that on a _cake_?

That's correct! No one!

But, hey, who ever said that Medda was right in the head?

And I never said the cake didn't taste good.

So, there we were, eating cake (which was supposed to be in honor of The Final Test, which we'd take tomorrow and which would determine who'd advance to the Final Step and who'd be kicked out) and yammering away.

I'd noticed that Race was brooding. I kinda prided myself on that, considering it was pretty damn hard to tell reasonably cheerful Race from brooding Race. But I knew. He was just kinda standing there and eating his cake, as opposed to eating his cake and trying to inconspicuously put his hands in places that Medda would _not_ like. At all.

"All right, what are you thinking about?" Race glanced sharply at me and raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing."

"You're lying." He stared back down at his caked before giving me a half-smile.

"You are _such_ a freak, you know that?"

"Yeah, I do. Now tell me what you were thinking about." He sighed.

"Just that... you know, that chick saw us... at the Cocksucker. Who else saw us? How do we know that someone isn't ready to blab it all to Medda right now?" I shook my head.

"You're so fucking paranoid."

"Yeah, I am. But just humor me, okay?" I frowned.

"What're you saying, Race?"

"Just that... you know, maybe we should act a little..."

"Straighter?"

"Yeah." My frown deepened.

"Why? I mean, Christ, you've already got Medda thinking that you're drooling over Speed."

"Exactly. Watch." He set down his cake, strode over to Speed and started making small talk. He was actually pretty damn good at being straight. I mean, he kept finding all these little ways to get way to close for comfort and whatnot.

Me, jealous? Not in the least!

I decided to retaliate in the only way that I could: by being just as straight, or straighter, than my boyfriend. Ha! Eat that!

So, I immediately strolled over to the first girl I saw, which just happened to be Ireland, and grinned.

"Hey, Ireland, would you be offended if I pretended to hit on you?"

She blinked slowly at me.

"Blink, hon... are you okay?"

"Just dandy! So, can I?"

"Erm... I guess."

Racetrack and I spent the remainder of the night ignoring one another and hitting on various girls, which sucked. A lot. And I found it pretty pointless, to tell you the truth.

But, hey, whatever made him happy...

By the time we went to bed, I was pretty much going into Race withdrawal. It's not a pretty disease. Not at all. But I'd kinda started to see a point to his madness. Anyone who opened the door could've seen us that night at the bar. And anyone could just waltz right up to Medda and sing like a canary. So, the only way to throw off _any_ suspicions was to be as straight as we possibly could. Straight like Harrison Ford or Elvis or James Dean.

Though I sometimes have my doubts about the last one...

Once I settled myself into bed, I stopped worrying about pretending to be straight and started worrying about the Final Test. It was supposedly some kind of exam, a compilation of everything we'd been taught. If we passed we moved on to the Fifth Step, though no one, not even Swifty, knew exactly what the Fifth Step _was_. If we failed we were sent home. And _nobody_ wanted to get kicked out after coming this far.

I had odd dreams that night, consisting of Mr. Kloppman dressed like a winged clown and chasing around Medda, who was dressed like a fairy, with a large, rubber fire hydrant.

I decided to take it as a good omen and tried not to think any more.

****

End Chapter Seven

My God... I HATE this chapter so much. But I'm half asleep and I need to update, so this is what's getting posted. .O Next one will rock, guys, I _promise_. The Final Test will be uber-fun! Except... True Directions loses ANOTHER student! O.O WHO?! _WHO_, you ask? Well, you'll just have to wait and see. *beams* Since there are like... thirty thousand shoutouts, I don't have time to do individuals to everyone. Sorry, guys! ^_^;;; Individual SOs will resume next chapter, promise! *love for all* And many thanks to:

****

Omni (times approximately seven million. *loves*)

Raven (*loves*)

****

H.W.O

Cerri

****

Nakaia Aidan-Sun

Seraph

****

Artemis-chan

J-Sparrow

****

G.A (*loves*)

B (*much love*)

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Ireland

Flare

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geometrygal

Checkmate

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Aura

Colleen

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kellyanne (*love*)

Liams Kitten

****

gypsy-morrigan

wand

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Twitch (*huggles*)

Q

****

Shot

Demon

****

Shakes

Shortie (*major love-age*)

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Thistle

KuramaLlama

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imaginelet

Bekka

****

Fishface

Tabloid (*lovelovelove*)

****

Raven again 

Shot again

****

kellyanne again

Aura again

Omni again (*huggles*)

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Gothic Author again

FidgetConlon

****

Braids

Liams Kitten again

****

Artemis-chan again

Ireland again

****

wand again

Nakaia Aidan-Sun

****

Colleen again

B again

****

Stage (*major love-age*)

Pyromaniacal Llama

****

Demon again

Thistle again

****

Checkmate again

Seraph again

****

J-Sparrow again

Layne-chan (erm... they're both on hold indefinitely... *sweatdrop*)

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Gryffin Parker

G.V (*lovelovelove* I MISS YOU)

Okies, ladies and gentlemen, that's all for this chapter. *beams* We're nearing the end, which saddens me a bit. *sniffles* Ah, well, three more chapters to go! Unless I miscounted... which is a significant possibility... since I'm a spaz...

UberGoth!Itey-Muse: Give to the Sita Is A Spaz fund!

Pantless!Blink-Muse: We just ask for a donation of...

Both: ONE REVIEW!

*gestures* Come on, they're BIAP's official muses! Can you really deny them? *puppy dog eyes* *grins, waves, bounces off*


	9. Chapter Eight: Testing, Testing, One, Tw...

Heeeeeeey, kids! *does a little jig* Da Sita is here with the newest chapter of BIAP. WOO, BIAP. Or not. -_- Anyway! I think you guys are gonna like this chapter. If it comes out the way I want it to, you will. Especially if you're all perverts like me! *grins* Which brings me to the following **important announcement**.

#The chapter of "But I'm a Prep!" that you're about to read contains **sex between two boys... kinda** (*pauses for wild cheers from other rabid slashy perverts like her*). Not graphic sex, but sex nonetheless. Sorta. *ponders* I kinda have to stop right before it gets good. I'm keeping it as clean as I can, kids; the last thing I need is for FF.net to have a hissy fit. So, please, don't report me; it's not even _really_ sex! I think... oh, just read it! *head explodes* No likey, no looky, okie-dokey?#

Disclaimer: This is Sita. This is Sita with no money. This is Sita really, really wishing that she owned _Newsies_. This is Sita not owning _Newsies_. Cry, Sita, cry. *beatnik snaps*

Warnings: SEX, slash, language

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But I'm a Prep!

Chapter Eight

"Welcome to the Final Test!"

"Please leave all opinions at the door," Spot muttered, leaning back in his chair and daintily crossing his legs. I snickered as Medda and Davey shot death glares at me.

"If you two are _quite_ finished... thank you." Medda turned her attention back towards the group. Stupid bitch. "The Test will have a physical portion followed by a written section. If you've been paying attention, this should be no problem. Your score on this Test will determine whether or not you remain at True Directions." She smiled brightly. "Boys, go with David. Girls, come with me." With that, the girls trudged off after everyone's favorite Nazi, humming the "Funeral March" and pretending to sob loudly.

"PIGGY BACK!" Spot shrieked, rushing forward and leaping on to my back.

"OOF!"

"Carry me, Blinkykins!" Racetrack snickered uncontrollably as I reluctantly followed Mr. Booty Shorts towards the football field with a very small, very gay boy on my back.

"Can you never call me 'Blinkykins' again?"

"I think it suits you."

"Thanks, Race."

"I'm gonna diiiie," Spot sang cheerily. "I, Paul Spencer 'Spot' Conlon, being of sound mind-"

"Your middle name is _Spencer_?"

"Can it, Higgins."

"Whatever you say, _Spencer_."

****

"I do hereby bequeath all my earthly possessions to the following," Spot continued solemnly, completely ignoring my laughing boyfriend. "To my grandmother, I leave all of my money. To my boyfriend, Jack Kelly, I leave my sex toys."

"Too much info there, Conlon."

"To my mother, I leave absolutely nothing, the stupid bitch. To one, Isaac 'Kid Blink' Cliffton, and one, Dean 'Racetrack' Higgins, I leave all forms of lubrication that I am in ownership of, because I'll be _damned_ if you two aren't gonna need a lot of it. And soon."

"SHUT UP!"

"Awwww, da wittle babies are turning reeeed!"

"_You_ were the one who was about to whip out Little Spotty at the bar on Saturday!"

"'LITTLE SPOTTY?!' Where the HELL did you get the name 'Little Spotty?!'"

"Take a look at the field, men!" David yelled. We abandoned our amusing antics in favor of studying the football field. An old car sat near us with a box of tools placed neatly beside it. At the opposite end of the field stood a pile of wood and an ax. And in the very center of the lawn were balls. A _lot_ of them.

David liked balls. Heheheh...

And you know you've been hanging around Spot too long when...

"Here's what's gonna happen," David called, clapping his hands together. "You guys will split up into pairs. Two of you will perform various procedures on the car, two of you will chop some wood, and four of you will practice identifying and playing with the balls. Then, you'll rotate. So, grab a partner, and let's get started!"

Race poked me in the side and smiled.

"Wanna be my partner?"

"I dunno... God forbid we compromise our heterosexuality."

His smile faded and was replaced with a rather adorable confused expression. However, before I could throw him to the floor and tear his clothes off, it disappeared.

"You're mad about the whole acting straight thing, aren't you?" I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, but it's okay. I'll be your partner."

"I'm sorry." I blinked.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. And remember how that word sounds, because I don't apologize often." It was my turn to smile at him, even though he insisted on staring straight forward and looking grumpy as we walked.

I vaguely noted that Swifty was stuck with Itey. Poor guy.

"All right, boys!" David crowed in a vain attempt to sound manly. "Kent and Ewan, take the wood. Roger and Benny, you've got the car. So that leaves me with... Paul, Jared, Isaac, and Dean."

You know, I'm actually starting to hate my name.

"You guys have one hour to complete all three tasks. Get ready... get set... go!"

I jogged towards the pile of balls feeling an awful lot like a lemming running over the side of a cliff.

*~*~*

Hot. Tired. Sweaty. Annoyed.

Those are just a few of the nicer words that described me as I fiddled with the underside of the stupid, blue car.

"I've never changed a tire in my life," I muttered as I poked vainly at the flat tire. "Race, hand me that... that thingie that lifts the car up. The jack!"

"What about Jack?!"

"Keep it moving, Conlon," Skittery said as he dragged Spot back towards the wood pile. I rolled my eyes and grinned.

"Race, did you find the jack?" I yelled. "... Race?" Frowning, I rolled out from under the car. "You okay?"

His eyes were huge. I mean, _huge_. It didn't look like he'd blinked in a long time. And, to top it all off, he was staring _directly_ at my crotch.

"Ten minutes, guys!"

Race snapped out of his little trance and shot a dirty look at David before poking through the various tools.

"Here," he said, dragging the car jack closer to the hunk of junk that I was positioned under. "You want me to jack you?"

I smacked my head on the underside of the car. "WHAT?!"

"IT! IT! I meant _it_!" I fought back a series of potentially girlish giggles as Racetrack set up the car jack with a slightly evil grin on his face. A few seconds later, I felt his breath on my ear. "But you know..." he whispered. "I think that fucking around with _you_ would be a lot more fun than fucking around with this stupid car."

My face then proceeded to burn faster than a Christmas tree on New Year's Eve.

He laughed softly before slipping under the car.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing," he replied innocently. "Just wanna help." He reached over to toy with some nonexistent problem after deeming it necessary to climb halfway on top of me to get there.

Not that it _bothered_ me, mind you...

"Careful," I warned quietly, gesturing to David.

"This acting straight thing is driving me nuts," Race muttered, crawling up my body at an agonizingly slow rate until we were face to face.

Must... keep... self-control...

"It was your idea," I replied. He grinned down at me.

"I know, and that's the worst part. But I just want you to know that I am _extremely_ close to saying 'to hell with TD' and fucking your brains out right here." I started to laugh until I actually looked into his eyes. Everything about him - his eyes, his expression, everything - told me that he wasn't joking in the slightest.

And you know what?

I felt pretty much the same way. But it wasn't gonna happen in broad daylight during a heterosexuality test, as amusing and ironic as that would be.

"Not here. Not now."

"I know." I smiled and leaned up to give him a sweet, innocent, little kiss.

Well, it didn't stay sweet and innocent for long. As a matter of fact, a few seconds later, it had evolved into a full-blown make-out session, complete with groping. Lots of it.

"Time's up!" Racetrack swore loudly in Italian. You know, I really need to learn Italian so I can figure out what the hell he's yelling about.

"Let's go before we get caught."

"We never did change the tire," I commented.

"Do you care?"

"No." He grinned and slipped out from under the car. I followed him after straightening my clothes a bit.

"Looks like _you_ had fun," Spot commented breezily, prancing along.

"You were _watching_?"

"Mmmm... maybe just a little." I raised an eyebrow. "Okay, yes. Hey, pretty boys making out? I'm there!"

"Thanks, Spot."

"Any time, Blink."

*~*~*

You know, Medda has a really weird effect on people.

We just sorta sat around in a semi-circle and chatted for a while. That's it. We were normal kids hanging out. Talking, laughing, teasing one another. Being _normal_. Forgetting why we were there just for a few seconds.

Then, Medda stepped in front of us with a blinding smile and a clipboard, and suddenly, we were back to reality.

And reality was _not_ a pretty place for us.

"All right, children!" she called. "I've determined your scores after reading all of your essays!" I winced at the memory of the topic: My Root and How It Prevents Me from Heterosexual Loving. "Let me start with the girls. First of all I'd like to say how proud I am of all of you. You excelled greatly. Especially you, Rebecca. I was very proud of your dishwashing skills." Stage flashed her a big, fake grin. "_All_ of you passed! Congratulations!" She flipped a page on the clipboard and started to read. "Now, for the boys. David said that you did a wonderful job. There were a few problems, but, overall, you did a good job. So, I'm passing all... but one of you."

I blinked as Medda pause, probably for dramatic effect.

"Paul."

My eye widened, and my blood froze in my veins. Absolutely _froze_. As if on cue, everyone turned slowly to face Spot. I'd expected him to look surprised or upset or at least pissed off, but his grey-blue eyes were totally blank.

Medda smiled triumphantly. "You may pack your things."

Spot smiled bitterly and stood up. He started to walk off, but he seemed to change his mind halfway through. "I have something to say."

"Go, Paul."

"No," Spot replied firmly. "Not yet." All traces of laughter were totally gone. It was the first time I'd ever seen him act seriously. And, to tell you the truth, it kinda scared me. He walked calmly to the front of the group and just stood there while Medda fumed behind him.

Never in a million years will I forget what he said next.

"You're all liars."

That may not seem like much, but coming from Spot, who rarely had a bad thing to say about anyone who wasn't Medda... it was a shock.

Even more of a shock because I knew he was right.

"You know this shit doesn't work. You know damn good and well. But you keep with it because that's what your parents want or that's what your teachers want or that's what your friends want. Well, this isn't about your parents or your teachers or your friends."

"Paul, I am asking you to leave _immediately_."

"It's about _you_," he continued, ignoring Medda completely. "Sure, you're appeasing everyone now by going to this little concentration camp, but what happens next? Are you just gonna keep doing what everyone else wants you to do? Are you gonna live your life for other people?

"Paul Conlon, get the _hell_ off of this property _now_!"

"Gladly, bitch!" he snarled. "Just remember what I said," he stated quietly to the rest of us. "I don't want the world to call you all a bunch of hypocrites fifteen years from now."

With that, he walked calmly towards the dorms. He didn't skip. He didn't prance. He didn't do any of the little random dances that he usually did. He just... walked. It gave him a weird kind of dignity. It reminded me of that guy in _A Tale of Two Cities_ going to his execution. I half-expected him to turn around and start reciting the "'tis a far, far better thing" speech.

Medda smiled brightly, but it was obvious that what Spot had said had affected us all. And it was obvious that she was pissed about it.

"Well, there's cake by the picnic tables for everyone else! Great job today!" She forced one more smile before clopping off towards the V.I.P dorm in her pink high heels.

"For once in my life, I really don't feel like eating," Mayfly said quietly.

"Me neither," Speed agreed.

"I'm just gonna head back to the dorm," Bumlets added softly.

"I'll go, too," I offered. About half of us started to head towards the dorm. The other half just kinda sat there. No one moved towards the picnic tables.

I guess Racetrack and Skittery decided not to come back, because I was the only one who walked into the first floor dorm. So, I was the only one who saw Spot leave.

He looked up, surprised, when I walked in the room. He had changed into a pair of jeans and a Sex Pistols shirt and was hunched over a suitcase.

"Blink..." he said quietly.

"You're right, you know."

"About what?"

"About how we're all liars." Spot gave me a half smile and continued to place his clothes in the suitcase.

"I sorta regret saying that," he said as he placed one of True Directions's towels into his suitcase. "I mean, some of you really do have your reasons."

"I don't."

"Bullshit. Yes, you do," he replied sharply. "If my father... well, if my father was alive and threatened to disown me, I'd stay, too."

I gave him a tiny smile and leaned against the door frame.

"Where are you going now?"

"With Jack. He wants to go to Santa Fe and open a restaurant." He grinned weakly. "You know, like the song? Let's open up a restaurant in Santa Fe," he sang softly.

"With a private corner banquette in the back," I chimed in. Spot's smile grew brighter.

"You know _RENT_? Good. Maybe you're not a total failure as a gay man."

"Thanks." His smile faded. For a few seconds, he just stared at me with his head cocked to the side.

"Do you know how amazing you are?"

I blinked.

"What?" He smiled.

"Have you ever read _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_?"

"Can't say that I have."

"The main character is a boy named Charlie. He sees the world in the most honest, most innocent way possible. It's practically impossible to do that nowadays. But you... that's how you see everything: with complete honesty. I'm not saying that you don't see the problems in the world, and I'm not saying that you're naive. I'm just saying that you see the world exactly how it is." His smile turned a bit sad, and he shook his head. "Racetrack is a damn lucky bastard," he said quietly.

Spot was halfway out the door, suitcase in hand, before I realized what he meant.

"Spot." He turned around.

"Yeah?"

"Are you saying that you... you, er..."

"Like you? Have a crush on you? Desperately want to fuck you? Yeah, all those work."

I blushed. "Oh."

His old grin suddenly came back full force. "Hey, now, don't let it go to your head. Arrogance doesn't suit you." He waved cheerily. "I'll see you around, Blink." He flashed me a peace sign and walked out the door without another word.

I stood in shock for a few seconds. Then, I sat on my bed and thought about three things:

One: Spot Conlon had a crush on me.

Two: Spot Conlon was gone.

Three: How does an "honest" view of the world differ from a normal view of the world?

Then my head started to hurt, so I stopped thinking altogether.

*~*~*

Skittery left that night after Medda's midnight check.

"I need to take a fucking walk before I kill something," he'd said.

So that left me and Race. Alone.

You know, we both _knew_ that once Skitts left, stuff was gonna happen. But, we both pretended that we didn't.

We spent about a half an hour just staring at each other.

Finally, he sat up in his bed and pushed the blankets down. He sort of sat there for a few minutes, just looking at me. Then, the corner of his mouth quirked up into an incredibly sexy half-smile.

I shot one back at him and nodded.

Without a word Race crept out of his bed and walked over to mine. I sat up when he reached the side of the bed, but he immediately pushed me back down again. Then, he jumped up and straddled my stomach.

My breath caught in my throat when he lowered his face to mine.

"Do you wanna do this?" he whispered. 

It was a legitimate question. For the past half hour, I'd been asking myself the same thing. But I was pretty sure that there was no turning back.

So I swallowed the lump in my throat as well as I could and nodded.

He kissed me immediately. But it wasn't like all of our other kisses, which had been rushed and frantic and hurried. This one was slower, sweeter, gentler, more intense. Racetrack was showing me a side of him that I was pretty sure he didn't show to many people. He really was moving out of the "asshole Italian" stage.

So I closed my eyes when I felt his tongue slip into my mouth. And he didn't start getting fast and frantic like I thought he would. He kept moving slowly, probably because he knew I'd never done this before.

"You sure you don't want to stop?" he murmured quickly before instantly reattaching our lips. I laughed softly into his mouth.

"You trying to back out on me?" He grinned down at me.

"Never."

I grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him back down again. After a few more minutes of just kissing, he pulled away. Just a few inches. 

We stared at each other for a few seconds, panting.

"Let's do this."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure, Race! For God's sake, fuck me!"

"If you insist." He presented me with another mind-numbing, explosive, fuckin' _incredible_ kiss, and I felt like I was melting. That boy can _kiss_. He laughed quietly and somehow managed to get my shirt as well as his off while simultaneously whispering all the things he was planning on doing to me in my ear.

On top of the overpowering blush that was spreading across the entire upper half of my body, I let out a noise that sounded like a cross between a squeak and a moan when he started kissing his way down my bare chest. He snickered quietly and rested his chin on my stomach before glancing up at me.

"_Carino_."

"Huh?"

"Cute."

"Oh." I proceeded to blush further which only made him laugh more. Not that I was complaining. He was damn sexy when he laughed like that, all quiet with his head tilted to the side...

Quite suddenly, his lips were back on mine. I moaned softly as one of his hands tangled itself in my hair and the other started to slither down my pants. He shuddered when I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Do that again." I opened my eyes and stared up into his. They were completely glazed over.

"Do what?"

"Make that sound."

"I don't remem-" He kissed me again, breathlessly, and I heard myself moan again.

"God, that is so fucking _hot_," he whispered, pressing his lips roughly to mine.

That's about as much as I can tell you of what happened that night. We did things that... well, young kids really shouldn't hear about. But I felt... _different_ that night. I'd never felt that way before. It was like I was totally complete. For once in my life, I'd felt like everything had come together. Once we'd finished and we were lying in my bed, sprawled across one another with our fingers linked, I told him that. He laughed at first.

"I'm serious," I insisted. "This was... I didn't think I could every feel like this. I didn't know this kind of feeling even _existed_. ... well, I _did_, but only from what Zooey would tell me."

He blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Well, she'd always tell me that she felt total complete and that everything was right when... well, when she was cheerleading."

"Oh, come on."

"I know, that's what I said! But I guess... I dunno. Maybe she really loved it. Maybe you can only get this kind of feeling when you're doing something that you really love." 

We just stared at each other for a bit after that comment.

"So... what do you love? Just the sex or..." He swallowed and looked away.

"I doubt it's the sex, Race." He glanced sharply back up at me, a tinge of red on his cheeks.

We smiled at each other.

"I think I'd like to see you as a cheerleader," he mused, brushing his fingers lazily across my arm.

"That was random."

"Come on, Blink! I think it'd be cute!" I rolled my eyes and grinned. Race quickly and suddenly closed the distance between us to give me a kiss that took my breath away. "Medda should be coming in soon to check on us. I better get back to my bed." I nodded.

"G'night."

"_Buona notte_," he replied before giving me one final kiss. We both hurriedly tugged our clothes back on and laid down facing away from one another.

I fell asleep with Race's question echoing through my brain:

_"So... what do you love_?"

****

End Chapter Eight

I actually... almost... sorta, kinda... _like_ this chapter! *gasp* Mostly just the car part. And I'm a bit proud of myself for writing kinda-sex, as I'm calling it. Next chapter: complications ensue! *grins* We're gonna break two hundred next chapter! GAAAAH! *dies* Pictures of exactly what happened that night between Race and Blink to reviewer number 200! And many thanks to mah loverly reviewers for last chappie!

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gypsy-morrigan: I know, it was actually quite hard for me to write that. I wanted to cry. And it makes me sad that in the movie, the kids actually go along with it. ;_; *cries* Step Five is... well... interesting... *smiles nervously* Can't tell you what it is, though, that'd be CHEATING! You should definitely rent the movie. It's so frickin' FUNNY! *dies* *beams* But, sankyuu muchly for the review! *huggles*

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J-Sparrow: *giggles* Burning chickens are funny! And so are you, my fellow otaku, _RENT_-freak, and newsiephile. *tackle glomps* I luffle you muchly. GIFTWRAP!BLINK! GAAAAH! *passes out* *quickly repays with a Giftwrap!Swifty-Muse* *glomps again* *passes out again*

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Omni: Actually, it makes quite a lot of sense. It's like Olivier on _Six Feet Under_ says: if something is truly good, it should make you sick to your stomach! *beams* I love Olivier, even if he is a selfish, horny, bastard. And you're... well, you're on the right track with Step Five. Not exactly, but they... well, you'll just have to wait and see. *grins evilly* I believe Kloppmans are sold exclusively at Target, but don't quote me on that. And I'll be sad meself when this baby is over. *sniffles* BUT LIFE WILL GO ON! *sobs* *glomps* Tankies SO much for all the loverly reviews, m'dear!

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Ravy-wavy: A re-enactment! *puts on a pink blazer and bright red, curly wig* *sews on swastika* *draws on Hitler moustache with Sharpie* *does Nazi walk* ICH BIN EIN BERLINER! Which means, "I am a jelly donut!" *beams* *loves* I hearteth you, Raveykins. *huggles*

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Artemis-chan: MEEP! *lovelovelove* Race and Blink are adorable, aren't they? I'VE CONVERTED PEOPLE! WOOO! *dances* You'll have to join Blinktrack, the fanclub that Omni spawned! *cackles* I ish vewy, vewy glad that you enjoy the ficcie so much! *beams* Gracias for reviewing!

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Tabloid: I shall loan you UG!I-M every now and then, loveykins! *beams brightly* *glompglompglomp* No, you're MY hero! *nods defiantly* *huggles* *luffs the Tab*

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Shot: Aw, glad ya liked it! *beams brightly and dances* I don't know why I never like any of my chapters... *shrugs helplessly* Ah, well, no biggie! *giggles* I had mucho fun writing the drumstick scene. *cackles evilly* I'm so mean to Medda... and I actually like her... *shrugs* Well, sankyu muchly for reviewing, Shot-face! *huggles*

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Soaker: Eh, no prob, lovey! Better late than never! XD YAY! ANOTHER _BIAC_ CONVERTEE! *giggles and dances in a circle* Glad you like it, and tankies for the review!

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Nakaia Aidan-Sun: YAY! *ish happy* Glad you liiiiiiiiked it! *giggles* And good luck on your test! *huggles*

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Shakes: Aw, it's more fun when you haven't seen the movie! Element of surprise and whatnot. *dances happily* Medda does suck quite a lot in this fic, doesn't she? I'll have to write her an apology fic. *nods* Don't worry, things will (eventually) clear up for all the couples! ... kinda. Ahem. Let's not worry about that now! *huggles* Much love, dearie!

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Holiday: *hughughug* Hiya, Holiday! Sankyuu MUCHLY! *feels all special* I heart everything you write, even though I'm a horrible reviewer! ^_^;;; AND YAY LLAMAS! *hugs many more times* Tankies for the awesome review!

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B: *grins wildly* You know, one of these days, I'm doing a giant fic where I leave Mayfly out of the story and reserve Blink for you. Seriously. *nodnodnod* By the way, Twitch sends much love and adoration your way. *grins* I know, I hate that part. I hate the whole chanting thing. -_- But it was necessary to the plot. Your reviews are NEVER bizzarely not interesting, because I luffle you AND your reviews! ^_____^ *glomps* Love for Da B!

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Thistle: I know, Blink's dad needs to be slapped. -_- And I feel so bad doing mean things to all the poor boys... *sniffles* But it'll all work out! ... maybe... *shifty eyes* YAY, KLOPPMAN! I should start selling mini-Kloppman dolls... *grins* Anyway, tankies for the luffly review-age!

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Fidget: *falls over* YAY, REPETITIVE REVIEWS! *giggles and dances* Anyway, woo! You like? YAY! And that _might_ be you... maaaaaaybe... maaaaaaybe not... not telling! *cackles* SHIRTLESS NEWSIE DOLLS, MEEP! And YAY, FLAMINGLYGAY!SPOT-MUSE! Tell him that I'll loan him P!B-M if he wants... *shifty eyes* *grins* *loves*

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Gryffin Parker: *holds an impromptu salon, a la _RENT_, for BIAP* *sobs* Eh, just kidding! But, hey, I'm jumping right into a new fic once I finish this, AND I'm starting ATCF back up again! So, no worries! And I actually am quite the spaz. ^_^;;; But I'll be sure to send your review over to Pantless!Blink-Muse. Maybe he can buy himself a new pair of tropical boxers with it... *ponders* Anyway! Many, MANY thanks for the review, and much love to you, too! *huggles*

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Checkmate: Unfortunately, I had to get Spot out. *sniffles* I didn't want to, believe me. ^_^;;; Next chapter... well, things are just gonna go downhill from here. But I can't say any more. *shifty eyes* Muchas gracias for reviewing, dearie! *beams*

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Aura: *feels all special, even though she speaks Spanish* TE QUIERO, TAMBIEN! *blushes* *feels really, really frickin' special* Thank you SO MUCH. Really. That's a really frickin' awesome compliment, even though it's not true. *love-age*

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Ireland: Yes, I have a Pantless!Blink-Muse, compliments of Tabloid. ^_^ He and UberGoth!Itey-Muse are BIAP's official muses. I luffle them so! XD Anyway... YES! I SUCCESSFULLY MADE EVERYONE HATE BLINK'S DAD! *dances gleefully* That's exactly what I was going for! *beams and huggles* Everyone seems to be excited about the Final Test, but it's really Step Five that's gonna be the shocker. *cackles* Anyway, glad you enjoyed the chappie! *lovelovelove*

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Colleen: You know, I wanna turn them straight sometimes, too. But you can't fight the inevitable. *hugs* You know I love you. *beams* "So, Dick Cheney was walking on the beach and he saw a chain and then a dolphin jumped out of the water and went, 'EEE, EEE!'" "... so where's the joke?" "That IS the joke!" "... Rachel, you are a moron."

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Seraph: *grins* I should pimp out Pantless!Blink-Muse like Jack pimped out Les! Ahem, anyway... yes, Medda is a malicious bitch, and we all hate her. Except not really. ^_^;;; Glad you liked it, lovey, and tankies muchly for the review!

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Anne: *flying tackle glomps* LOVE! LOVE! *blushes* Another fabulous, though untrue, compliment. *huggles* YAY! BABY-MAKIN' TIME, WOO! *sighs reluctantly* Fine, fine... the chapter... isn't quite as bad as I previously made it out to be. I like watermelon! ^_^ Much love for thee! 

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G.V: *flying tackle glomps* LOVELOVELOVELOVE! *giggles* Sankyuu, dearie! YAY, BRACELET! *more love*

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Gothic Author: *mucho, mucho love* I really wanted to write that in just for the hell of it, but I would have kept going and going and never gotten Skittery's sorry ass in there. DAMMIT, SKITTS, THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! (Skittery: I'M SORRY! *runs away crying*) ... oops. Let's pretend that didn't happen. Anyway! I KNOW! Stupid boys! I guess even gay ones have that "macho" complex. Most of them, anyway. *shrugs and grins* *wipes away a nostalgic tear* Meeeeeemoriiiiiiiies... *tackle glomps* Who loves the G.A? That'd be DA SITA! *glompglompglomp*

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Emily: *beams brightly* Yay for feeling warm and fuzzy! *sighs dreamily* That's such a good feeling... *giggles* They are SO friggin' adorable! *dances* I heart those two. Anyway, many, many thanks for the loverly review!

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Marigold: There are so few Blink/Race fics out there... it makes me sad... *sniffles* The only other two I know of are written by Lute, so check those out if you particularly like the pairing. *beams* LATINO!SPOT IS SACRED! *glomps him* I heart him quite a lot, and I ish glad that you likey the ficcie! *beam-age* Sankyuu for reviewing!

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wand: *grins sheepishly* Can't help it, I'm a perfectionist! But yay for you liking it! ^____^ Yeah, it annoys me when people just copy the movie word for word. Besides, I had to change it up to accomodated the ten million people in this damn thing. .O ATCF is gonna be even worse... *groans* Ah, well, I'll deal! *cackles* *snaps fingers* You've got a deal! *makes mental note: one Snitch/Skitts piece per self-criticism* Tankies muchly for the review-age!

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imaginelet: MEEP! You like, yay! I actually like writing this fic, which is rare for me. I never like writing ANY of my fics. ^_^;;; Well, they start getting tedious near the end, and it hasn't happened with this. Anyway... WOO! GO _BUT I'M A CHEERLEADER!_ And go you for reviewing! *huggles*

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Janelicious: *backs slowly away* Down, girl, down... we all know that FF.net sucks. *beams* But glad you like it, dearie. And I, too, want to throw drumsticks at someone. Not Medda in particular, just someone. 'Cause I think it would be cool. Anyway. I love you. A lot. And you know that. *flying burning swimming floating other such words tackl glomps*

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Liams Kitten: WELCOME TO THE NML! XDDDDD Ahem, on to the review-age! I don't think I want this to end... yet, at the same time, I do.... *sniffles* Yesh, Mary = Medda. It's frightening. I adore that movie mucho. *cackles* AWWWW! Don't hurt your Dutchy!Muse! *huggles the Dutchy!Muse* He just wants to have a little fun! *runs around yelling "BIAP" with D!Muse* *grins* LOVELOVELOVELOOOOOOVE!

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Layne-chan: Eventually, yes, I shall continue them! *beams* ... hopefully. ^_^;;; And I love you, too, Layne-face! *glomps* YOU MUST SEE _NEWSIES_ FOR IT IS FABULOUS! *lovelovelove* I miss hearing from you, though! *more love*

Well, guys, that's the end for this chappie! Let me know what you thought! Did you think before you read the chapter, "Oh, so and so will get kicked out?" Were you right? If not, who did you think would get booted? Just curious. *beams* Oh, and is the semi-sex horrible? It's not even really semi-sex, just really strong allusions to it. ^_^ Anyway! *announcer voice* Things get rough for the TD boys next time on... BUT I'M A PREP! *sings to the tune of the "Thundercats" theme song* BIAP, BIAP, BIAP, BIIIIIAP! *a la Lionel* Slashiness! HOOOO-OOOOO! (I really hope someone knows what I'm talking about here...) Anyway! Reviews would be LOVERLY! *glomps all*


	10. Chapter Nine: Exit Stage Left

Heya, everyone! ^_^ This, my friends, is the second-to-last chapter of BIAP. *wipes away tear* But uber-kudos to B who was mah 200th reviewer! *glomps B, throws confetti, hands out promised pictures* *beams* All righty, kids, on with the chapter! XD

Disclaimers: Belongs to Disney _Newsies_ does. Belong to their owners the OCs do. Own Mayfly, Risk, and Swerve Sita does. Talk like Yoda Sita will. Mm.

Warnings: Eh, the usual. You know. Slash, language, yadda, yadda, yadda

#This chapter is dedicated to B and Shortie because they rock my world. ^_^#

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But I'm a Prep!

Chapter Nine

"Isaac Cliffton, wake up _now_!"

Blearily, I cracked open my eye and was greeted by the _last_ person I'd ever want to see glaring down at me first thing in the morning: Medda Larkson.

Of course, Itey, Bebop, and Slosh were staring at me, too, but they didn't annoy me _quite_ as much.

"Whadda ya want?" I murmured sleepily.

"I want you to get dressed _now_," Medda snarled. I blinked, finally realizing that something wasn't right.

"What'd I do?" Medda stared at me like I was a moron.

Itey grinned. "Did you and Race have fun at your little sleepover?"

My heart stopped.

"I'll expect to see you in my office in five minutes," Medda said coldly. "Elizabeth, Kylea, get out of the boys' dorm." She clopped briskly out of the room. Slosh and Bebop, after shooting me sympathetic looks, trudged out after her.

I looked around before realizing that Skittery and Race were already gone before glaring at Itey.

"You fucking bastard... you fucking _jealous_ bastard."

"Jealous?"

"Yeah. Jealous that he's fucking _me_ and not _you_."

He faltered, just for a second. "Yeah, well, _you're_ the one getting fucked _over_." He smirked at me before walking out of the room.

I clenched my fists and seriously contemplated killing the little bastard and hiding his body. But I settled for pulling on actual clothes and walking to Medda's office.

She was waiting for me when I walked in.

"Sit." I sat. She leaned forward in her chair and placed her chin in her hands. "Isaac, do you realize what this entails?"

"Yes, Miss Medda."

"I have to remove you from the program now, and your father has already stated that you can't go back home. You're on your own now. Is that clear?"

"Crystal."

"Good." She sighed and paused for a second like she was making some kind of huge decision. She finally glanced back up at me. "But, listen, I really hate to do this, Isaac, so I'm offering you a deal."

I blinked. _That_ didn't sound like Medda.

"I'll allow you to graduate with your classmates if you agree to partner with Kathleen in Step Five."

I raised an eyebrow. "It depends. What exactly does Step Five involve?"

Medda smirked. "Simulated Sexual Lifestyle."

I stared at her.

Really, that was all I could even consider doing.

"Let me get this straight," I said slowly after a long pause. "You're going to make us _have sex with girls_?!"

"Not _actual_ sex," Medda contradicted. "You're underage! You'll all wear bodysuits and just go through the motions." 

I glared at her. "And why exactly do you want me with Ireland?"

She didn't answer, but at that point, it didn't really matter. I'd figured it out myself. It suddenly made sense: how Ireland always happened to have work to do that involved me, how I would sometimes see Medda eyeing me up...

She was trying to set me up with her frickin' niece.

I stared her straight in the eye. "There's no way I'm doing it, Medda."

Her smile froze on her face. "And why not?"

"I'd be lying. I'd be lying to you and to Ireland and to Race and, most importantly, to myself. I've been lying ever since I got here. And, to tell you the truth, I'm really sick of lying."

She stopped pretending to smile then. "Then you're out."

"Then I'm out." She glared at me and pointed towards the door.

I left to pack my things.

And I actually felt pretty damn good.

*~*~*

"She's talking to Racetrack."

I turned to face Mush.

"Is she?" He nodded.

"I think she's offering him the same deal that she offered you." I rolled my eyes.

"He'll never take it."

"I know. You two care about one another too much." He smiled wistfully and glanced over at David, who was giving the Doghouse a fresh coat of paint. "I wish he cared about me like that."

I blinked at Mush's sudden removal of his theoretical mask. "How do you know he doesn't?"

"If he really cared about me, do you think he'd be doing this?"  
"Point taken, I suppose." He smiled and cocked his head towards the V.I.P dorm.

"Go see what they're saying. It's what I'd do."

"You're not as stupid as you pretend to be, are you?"

Mush just shrugged, smiled, and walked off.

So I snuck over to the window and peeked in. But, before I had a chance to start listening, the door opened.

Medda walked out first. She was chatting amiably with the man who followed her, who she called "Mr. Snyder." Racetrack trudged after him with his arm around a little girl. She couldn't have been more than nine or ten, and she had long, freakishly straight black hair and big glasses. I felt the urge to pinch her cheeks.

That's when Medda saw me standing there and smirked.

"Well, then, Mr. Snyder, it's all settled," she said loudly. "Dean will partner with Kathleen in Step Five."

My jaw practically hit the ground. I felt like I wanted to throw up.

I finally locked eyes with Race, and, honestly, it didn't look like he was doing any better. He kinda looked like he wanted to cry. And kick himself.

"Can I tell him goodbye?"

"No." Medda immediately went back to chatting away with this Mr. Snyder guy, so Race jogged over to me, the little girl in tow.

"Blink-"

"How could you do this to me?" The little girl blinked up at me before stepping forward and offering me her hand.

"Hello," she stated quietly with a small smile. "My name is Faith Avilene DePano, but you may call me Avi. Everyone else does."

I complete forgot the fact that I was completely and totally pissed/hurt about what Race did and took her hand. Believe me, if you were in my place, you'd have done the same, no matter _how_ pissed you were. The kid had a calming effect.

"Hi, Avi, I'm Isaac, but you can call me Blink." She frowned and looked at my eye patch.

"It seems as though that would be offensive."

"It isn't."

"All right, then, I shall call you Blink." Racetrack grinned at me over her head.

"Avi, go talk to Mr. Snyder for a little while, okay?"

"All right. It was a pleasure to meet you." She smiled at me before skipping off.

"She's adorable," I said. "And smart."

"Smartest damn kid I've ever seen. She's like a sister to me. And she's why I did it." I looked at him, and he sighed. "That guy over there? He runs the place where orphans like me stay. Snyder is his name. Biggest asshole that ever lived. He said that having a gay kid at the house would ruin his rep with the state, so he said that if I didn't get cured, he'd boot me. And he hates Avi, so he'd boot her, too." He stared at me, pleading with his eyes. "I can't do it to her, Blink, I just can't."

I looked at the ground and didn't say anything. But I did understand. Sorta.

"Dean, come here. Isaac, get off of my property."

I headed back to the dorm room to pack my things without giving Racetrack another glance.

At least I knew where I could go.

*~*~*

It was dark by the time I got to the Lodging House.

I glanced up at the second floor before setting my suitcase on the porch and ringing the doorbell.

The mail slot popped open and a pair of green eyes stared at me.

"What do you want?" a girl's voice asked.

"Let me talk to Mr. Kloppman."

"Who're... hey, you're from True Directions!"

"Well... yeah..."

The mail slot closed. I groaned in frustration and proceeded to pound on the door. "Come on, not any more I'm not!"

The door opened, and I found myself staring at Specs and Dutchy.

"Blink, what are you doing here?" Specs asked, confused.

"I... erm... well..."

"You got kicked out?"

"Pretty much, yeah." They shared a glance before smiling at me.

"Come on in, kid. Sorry about Fidget," Dutchy said, gesturing to a chubby green-eyed girl that looked awfully familiar.

"You threw rocks at me," she pouted.

I blinked. "Oh! Oh, yeah, wow... sorry about that." She blinked and beamed at me.

"S'okay!" She giggled wildly and scampered up a long flight of stairs.

Specs smiled apologetically at me. "She's a little weird at times."

"Aren't we all?"

"Well, hello, there!" I blinked and glanced up.

Mr. Kloppman had suddenly appeared at the foot of the stairs, still dressed in his camaflouge suit. He beamed broadly at me and tapped his cane on the floor.

I could already tell that this was probably the coolest old man I'd ever meet.

"Mr. Kloppman, this is Blink," Dutchy explained gesturing to me. "The bitch kicked him out." Mr. Kloppman's smile didn't falter.

"Now, now, Dutchy, 'bitch' isn't politically correct. Let's refer to Miss Larkson as... 'socially challenged.' That sounds about right." He held out his hand. "Maurice Kloppman. Very pleased to meet you, Blink."

"Nice to meet you, too." His smile, if possible, got bigger.

"Now, I'm assuming that you're searching for a place to stay, right?"

"Right."

"Well, it just so happens that we have an open room!"

CRASH!

I jumped about ten feet in the air and managed to trip over a rainbow-painted end table and land flat on my ass. Specs, Dutchy, and Mr. Kloppman, however, didn't seem phased at all.

"And that would be the sound of Rebel and Raven attempting to smash each other's drum sets," Kloppman said, shaking his head and looking generally amused. "Excuse me, Blink. Boys, why don't you grab someone and have them show him the ropes?" He tipped his hat at me before scurrying up the stairs.

"And don't even _think_ about asking me," a familiar voice stated. "I've got too much crap to do as it is."

My eyes widened as I focused on the husky brunette walking briskly across the room with a large box filled with candles in her arms.

"Heels?"

She stopped walking and stared at me.

Then, she dropped the box.

"_Blink_?! Holy shit, what the fuck are you doing here?!" Surprisingly, she didn't have the pissed-off undertone that I was used to hearing.

"Medda kicked me out."

"You fucked Racetrack, didn't you?"

I didn't answer, but I did turn a lovely shade of red.

She smirked. "I knew you two could only last so long without going at it like rabbits. Listen, I've got to go bring this box to some lady Kloppman knows. But I'll grab Snitch to come show you around."

"He's here, too?!"

"Of _course_ he's here. SNITCH! C'MERE!" Heels gave me the closest thing to a smile that I'd ever seen on her face before trudging out the door, mumbling about how she hated candles.

"What do you- BLINK!" Snitch grinned wildly from the top of the stairs before racing down and practically tackling me. And being tackled by someone as tall as Snitch is _not_ on my every day "to do" list.

But I didn't particularly mind.

"How have you been?"

"Oh, this place is frickin' _heaven_ compared to TD. Mr. Kloppman really wants to help us, you know? He's not doing it for money or for respect or anything like that. He's just doing it because he cares about us." He continued to grin, showing off his abnormally large teeth. "It's nice to have an adult care about you."

"Your dad does."

"He's obligated to. He's my _dad_. Mr. Kloppman isn't forced to give a damn about me." He cocked his head towards the stairs. "C'mon, I'll show you around. You can just leave your stuff down here. We'll bring it up later." He started to jog up the bright red stairs. I looked around the house for a second and realized that it was splattered with just about every color of the rainbow - _except_ pink or blue.

Kloppman is a genius.

"Girls' rooms are on the right, boys' rooms are on the left," he said cheerily. "Everyone gets their own rooms, and you can decorate it however you want. We can basically do what we want, but Kloppman likes us to be back here for about one. We don't have to sleep or anything, he just doesn't want us out too late."

"Sounds good to me."

"This is basically what the girls' rooms look like." He opened one of the doors on the right to reveal, pretty much, a disaster area. Clothes strewn everywhere, books and papers all over the ground, and three girls rocking out to a random song that was blaring from a bright orange stereo.

"And if you ever said you missed me, then don't say you never lied! Tell all the English boys you meet 'bout the Amer- whoa, girls, we've got company." The short girl in the center immediately stopped singing and turned to face me, her short, curly, red-blond hair bobbing like crazy. I vaguely recognized her as the Almighty Wielder of the Flying Drumsticks. She frowned, her green eyes narrowing. "Aren't you a TD freak?"

"Lay off him, Shot," the girl I recognized as Fidget said, hopping from foot to foot and beaming brightly. "He's a newbie."

"I know him!" I blinked at the last girl whose long auburn hair was yanked up in a messy ponytail. I recognized her as Raven, the bartender. "He's a friend of a friend." She grinned at me. "He's a cool kid." The short one nodded and offered me her hand, smiling slightly. "I'm Kristen Hunter. People call me Shot."

"I'm Blink."

"Hey, kids, Kloppman wants us downstairs for dinner!" Yet another girl appeared in the doorway. Her near-black hair was wet and hung limply to the middle of her back. She was grinning like a five-year-old. She raised an eyebrow at me. "Hi!" she cried cheerily. "I don't know who you are!"

I grinned. "I'm Blink. Just got here."

"Hi, Blink! Eat our food!" She gave me another cheery smile before racing down the hall.

"That's Rebel," Raven explained. "She's not quite right in the head."

"None of us are quite right in the head."

"Thank you, Shot. You've met pretty much all the girls, except for Stutter, who's sick. She'll be in her room all night. Boy-wise, you've still gotta meet Snoddy, Risky, Swerve, and Twitch-"

"Maybe he shouldn't meet Twitch," Shot interjected as the girls began to lead me towards the stairs. "I don't want him to get raped his first day here."

Then, they all started giggling.

Girls. They're all the same.

I descended the stairs surrounded by a gaggle of tittering girls and wondered why there was such a division between straight guys and gay guys when straight girls and lesbians were basically the same.

*~*~*

"He's so CUTE! OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMY-"

"Twitch, for God's sake, he's in the other room, not across the country! He can still hear you!"

"... shut up, Snoddy."

I blushed slightly as Twitch, a semi-lanky guy with messy brown hair and braces, and Snoddy, a pretty normal-looking guy with blue eyes and a constant runny nose trudged out of the kitchen with a stack of rainbow-printed plates. Twitch immediately set down his stack and bounced to the seat next to me.

"Hiya!" he chirped.

"Leave him alone, Twitch."

"But Riiiiisk-"

"Leave him alone." Twitch pouted and started poking at his potatoes.

I think that out of all the people I'd met that day, Risk was my favorite. He looked like one of those stereotypical pretty boys that you'd find in an anime: long-ish black hair, big blue eyes, those huge round glasses that tend to make people look smart. I'd realized right off the bat that he was pretty much everyone's surrogate big brother, even though he was younger than a lot of the people there.

His boyfriend, Swerve, sat at his side and ignored me. I'd also learned very quickly that Swerve was kind of a jerk.

"So, everyone," Mr. Kloppman began once everyone had gotten food. "I'm sure you've all met Blink. Don't be too horrible to him." He beamed as everyone laughed quietly. "Anyway, I was thinking that a few of you could take him to the bar, get him comfortable, you know. Let him have a little fun before we find him a suitable school."

I blinked. This man was _amazing_.

"I'll go!" Snitch offered. Snoddy and Heels also offered to go with me, the latter coming as quite a surprise.

So, as soon as we finished dinner, I headed upstairs with them to change and get ready to go. Unfortunately, instead of feeling all free and whatnot like I'd expected to, I felt myself getting more and more depressed.

"You okay?" Snitch finally asked after a few minutes.

I sighed. "He was supposed to come with me. It... I can't believe he did this to me."

Snitch frowned and looked generally confused. "Who?"

"Race."

"You and _Race_?! I knew it! I so knew it! He had a thing for you from the start!" I blushed like crazy as Snoddy started to laugh. "But seriously... it gets better. After a while, I mean. When I first got here, it was like hell without Skitts." His smile turned sad. "It still is. But it's not as bad as it used to be." He sighed. "How did he look when you left?"

"Like shit. He misses you like crazy."

"Hey, come on," Snoddy said gently. "No more depressing stuff, okay? 'Cause then I'll jump on the bandwagon and start ranting about Swifty. And, believe me, you don't want to hear me rant."

My eyes widened. "_You're_ Swifty's boyfriend?"

"He talks about me?"

"Well, he refers to you as his 'outside contact,' but, yeah, constantly!" Snoddy grinned like an idiot.

"It's good to know he's still thinking about me." Snoddy smiled slightly to himself. "Come on. Let's go get Heels and have ourselves a party."

With that our odd, little trio headed out the door.

*~*~*

We got to the Cocksucker pretty quickly. It was still early (about ten), so the big crowd hadn't come in yet.

I did notice that Chaser was working behind the bar though.

"Got booted a few hours after you did," she told me sulkily. "Medda's such a Nazi. I hope Speed will be okay."

I stared at the floor. "This fucking sucks."

Heels raised an eyebrow at me. "What?"

"Everything. Everyone's getting kicked out, and we're all getting separated."

I don't know what came over me then, but I stormed out the back of the bar. I just got so incredibly pissed off at the injustice of it all that I had to get out.

Not like going out by the dumpsters helped me any, since it reminded me of Race and our first kiss. But I didn't want to stalk back inside, so I just sat on the broken bench next to the trash.

They all followed me. Snitch sat next to me, Heels leaned against the dumpster, Chaser plopped herself on the floor, and Snoddy stood and tossed bottle caps at the fence.

"I can't take this any more." We all glanced at Snitch. "I've gotta do something. Something, anything, anything at all. But I can't leave Skittery by himself."

"I miss Mandy." Believe me, that is a _hell_ of a lot coming from Heels, who tried her hardest to show no emotions other than those of anger or haughtiness.

"I don't want to just sit here," Chaser stated firmly, her green eyes flashing.

"But what can we do?" Snoddy questioned. "I mean, I haven't seen Swifty in _months_, but we're just kids. What can we possibly do?"

I sat there, trying to think of an answer. And, honestly, I thought for a second that he had me stumped.

Until an idea hit me like a sack of anvils.

I turned to face my friends with a slightly evil smirk.

"It all depends. What are you _willing_ to do?"

They all looked at each other. Then, they looked at me.

And I told them exactly what I planned on doing in order to get our respective boy/girlfriends back, and, possibly, if we were lucky, take down Medda Larkson and True Directions forever.

****

End Chapter Nine

*wipes sweat off of forehead* Well, that was a workout. This chapter is... okay, in my opinion. Not spectacular, but okay. And it never would have gotten written without the consistent prodding of the NJL. Specifically, Shortie. *loves you guys* Anyway. No time for individual SOs, since I'm going to be kicked off the computer very, very soon. But keep in mind that I love and ADORE you all! And also, don't forget, the next chapter is the last one. *cries* I'm gonna miss this fic. *wipes away tear* Anyway, many thanks to the following:

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Twitch (x2)

J-Sparrow

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Soaker

Thistle

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Gryffin

B to the "izzle"

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V-channy-chan (x2)

Aura

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Fidget

Twiggy

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Tabbers

Artemis

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Ireland

Nakaia Aidan-Sun

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Colleen

Shortie McShortsizzle

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Gothic Author

Marigold

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Gangsta Videl

Demon

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Anne

Aguachica

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Stagerooni (x2)

OneConfusedNewsie

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Omnikins

Saturniia

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Froggles

H.W.O

Like I said, last chapter next time, my loves. So, review, pretty please? *sniffles* 

UberGoth!Itey-Muse: ... GOD, you're ugly.

... *tazes him* Shaddup. *beams*


	11. Chapter Ten: Graduation

I can't believe it. I really can't. This, my dear friends, is the final chapter of But I'm a Prep. *blinks* It's kinda weird. When I first started this thing back in July, I didn't know _any_ of you. Not really. And now... well, I adore you all! *beams brightly* Okay, enough of this. I'll save the sappy crap for the end and get you to the fic! XD But keep in mind that I LOVE YOU ALL. Anyway.

Disclaimers: I own _Newsies_. Really. I do. *shifty eyes* Okay, no I don't.

Warnings: Language, slash

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But I'm a Prep!

Chapter Ten

I was getting impatient.

That part of Racetrack had rubbed off on me. 

I knew from that night at the Cocksucker that I wouldn't be able to act right away. All I had were the vague ideas of an outline of a plan. And even when the other members of the Lodging House put in their two cents and managed to piece together some kind of a strategy, I knew that in order for it to really work, I'd have to wait until the True Directions graduation. I _knew_ that.

But, _dammit_, I hated just sitting around! 

So, I bided my time by spying on the TD crew. And, eventually, most of my fellow lodgers decided that they'd take great pleasure in helping me out.

Knowing that they were willing to help made the waiting easier.

A _little_ easier.

It was still hard. _Very_ hard. So, I still jumped up from my chess game with Risk when I heard the front door shut. As I raced towards the door, I realized that I wasn't the only one interested in what was going on at TD. Risk was right behind me, Raven was bolting from the kitchen, and Heels, Snoddy, Twitch, and Fidget were flying down the stairs in some kind of odd, inadvertent Brady Bunch parody.

Mr. Kloppman beamed at us all. Today, his suit was made completely out of bright neon green material with huge blue and orange frogs in it. He had random leaves stuck in the neon green band on his hat, and there was actually a live frog sitting calmly on his shoulder.

"As you know," he began as we all settled into the various colorful, mismatched chairs, "I am your supervisor and the resident responsible result. As a responsible adult, I have no choice but to condemn the spying that you do on Miss Medda Larkson. However, due to some strange phenomenon, whenever this spying occurs, I find myself temporarily blind, deaf, and unaware of everything occurring around me, and, therefore, I have no proof that this practice actually happens." We all broke out into wild grins at that comment. "Carry on!" He tapped his cane on the floor and wandered off, humming a random tune under his breath.

We immediately focused our attention onto our "undercover agents" for that day: Snitch, Swerve, and friendly girl with red-brown hair nicknamed Stutter.

"Let's cut to the chase," Swerve said. "They went through with Step Five today."

My heart drop.

"That B-Bebop girl w-w-wouldn't do it," Stutter added. "She quit."

"Good for her," Shot murmured appreciatively.

"But the rest of them did it?" I blurted out.

"As far as I know," Swerve replied quietly.

"Even Race?" The trio exchanged glances. Finally, Snitch nodded.

"Even Race."

I felt my heart drop even lower into my shoes, but I nodded, I'd never expected him to actually go through with it. I'd always thought that he'd end up tearing out of the place to come find me, and we'd run off into the sunset and get a house with two-point-five adopted children and all that crap.

Actually, all I really wanted was for him to stand up for me. For him. For _us_.

Guess I expected too much.

"Are you okay?" Risk asked gently. I stared at him before swallowing the lump in my throat and nodded.

"Yeah, I'll be good."

Risk eyed me skeptically for a few seconds like he didn't believe me, but he let it go.

"Now that they've all passed, they can graduate. The ceremony's tomorrow," Swerve said bluntly, jamming his hands in the pockets of his black, baggy jeans.

"Tomorrow?!" Raven yelped. She looked at me sharply. "Do we have enough time to do this?" I shrugged.

"Probably not, but we're gonna do it anyway. There's no rhyme or reason or plan to it; we're just gonna let it happen."

My fellow conspirators nodded grimly.

You're probably wondering what exactly my master plan was. Then again, I shouldn't really call it my master plan. It's not fancy or complicated or anything like the "master plans" you see in movies. All we were going to do was crash True Directions' graduation ceremony. Now, that may not sound like much, but we were planning on trying our damnedest to steal back our respective significant others and, at the same time, let the parents know that this program didn't do shit. We could take Medda herself down if everything went well.

"We should head to the Cocksucker and let Chaser know what's going on," Heels said, fiddling with the pentagram around her neck. Being as there were no rooms left at the Cocksucker, Chaser had taken up residence at the Cocksucker itself, which offered surprisingly nice rooms for its employees.

"Yeah," Snoddy agreed.

"I'll go."

"Blink, you haven't _slept_ since you had this idea," Snitch said gently. "Why don't you take a break tonight and let someone else go?"

"I'll tell her!" Rebel offered.

I sighed. "Fine."

"You really should get some sleep, Blink," Raven said firmly. "Upstairs. Go. Shoo."

"Are you my mom now?"

"No, but I'm Italian, and that's enough. Upstairs." I made a face in Raven's general direction and, grumbling, ascended the stairs. With a sigh I climbed into my bed.

I was dead to the world within five minutes.

*~*~*

Surprisingly enough, the following day passed like any other day. I woke up, ate breakfast, dodged Twitch (who had decided that we needed to get married), goofed off... the usual. But I went the entire day with a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. As much as I tried to convince myself that everything was normal and life was good, I knew it wasn't. I knew that we were going to try and do something that we probably shouldn't do. I mean, if we got caught... shit would hit the fan.

But I tried not to think about what would happen if we got caught.

If we pulled it off, on the other hand... there'd be no more True Directions. Medda would leave in disgrace. And maybe, just maybe, people would start to see that homosexuality isn't something that can be turned on and off like a light switch. Maybe they'd see that we're learning to deal with it, so they should, too.

And we were just kids. Normal teenagers who went to school and bitched about homework and hung out with friends. We weren't special or anything, and, yet, we were holding our own miniature revolution. If we were lucky, adults just might start to take more notice of kids. They might realize that just because they've lived longer, they don't necessarily know everything. We just might be able to prove that teenagers can do a hell of a lot when they band together.

Still... there were a whole lot of "maybes" and "mights" that I was dealing with. There was still the large possibility that we'd all crash and burn.

But we'd never know if we didn't try.

So when three o'clock rolled around and I realized that there was only two hours left until the ceremony, I was nervous. Believe me, I was practically pissing on myself. But at the same time, I was proud. _Really_ proud. We weren't just sitting around and letting injustices happen. We were really gonna do stuff about it. And that's more than most presidents and senators and various politicians can say.

A soft knock at my door brought me out of my thoughts. I set down my book (the _Nightrunner_ series by Lynn Flewelling; damn good books) and opened the door.

"Good afternoon, Blink," Mr. Kloppman said cheerily. "Would you mind if I came in?"

"Not at all." He strolled into my room with a large cardboard box and set it down on the floor. Then, he just looked at me for a bit, absent-mindedly tapping his cane on the floor.

"I want you to know how proud I am of you. And the others, of course. This is a big undertaking, Blink, and I know that you know it. But you still plan on going through with it even though you know how big the risks are. I admire that. So, I got you all a present." He beamed, reached into the box, and pulled out a camaflouge jumpsuit. "The way I see it, one can never own too much camaflouge. It's interesting and discreet and quite stylish, in my opinion.

I stared at it in shock before grinning like a madman.

"Thanks, Mr. Kloppman."

"You're welcome, Blink." He smiled at me once more, tipped his hat, and meandered out of the room.

*~*~*

"You ready?" I pulled on my camaflouge jacket, turned to Snitch, and grinned.

"As ready as I'm gonna be," I replied. He sighed and fiddled with the zipper of his own jacket.

"I just hope that Racetrack is worth it."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is Skittery?"

He smiled wryly at me. "I'm doing this for you, not for Skitts."

"I'm so sure." He grinned and smacked me upside the head. "Let's get going." We took our time getting downstairs, though. This wasn't exactly something that we were looking forward to.

Heels and Snoddy were already waiting for us in the living room. Heels had a completely expression on her face, while Snoddy looked as white as a ghost. Chaser, who had apparently arrived a bit earlier, was chatting loudly with Shot and Stutter.

Everyone shut up when Specs and Dutchy walked in.

It was time.

"Is everybody ready?" Dutchy asked cheerfully, keeping a loose grip on Specs' hand. There was a pause before Snoddy finally spoke up.

"No." Everyone blinked in surprise. "But we're going anyway. What other choice do we have?"

"Amen, brother," Snitch muttered. Simultaneously, Specs and Dutchy pulled identical pairs of sunglasses from the pockets of their jeans and put them on.

It was cute. A little cheesy, a little weird, but cute. And it definitely helped lift some of the tension.

"It's time, guys," Specs said, grinning. "Commence Operation 'Bringing Down the Bitch.'"

*~*~*

The graduation was held, like most TD functions, on the football field. So, when Specs and Dutchy dropped us off, the five of us made a mad dash from the parking lot to a small grove of trees on the outskirts. Several rows of folding chairs had been set up facing a small platform. Said chairs were almost completely filled with parents, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, cousins... you get the point. Various relatives. And every single one of them was wearing white. It kinda hurt to look at them, but it was the least of my worries. Glancing up at the tiny stage, I saw David and Mush wearing white suits and talking quietly. Medda, wearing her customary vomit pink, was standing at a podium and tapping on the microphone.

"Looks like we got here just in time," Snoddy commented.

"Everyone ready?" I asked. 

"Yeah," Snoddy said with a determined look in his eyes. Heels gave me a terse nod. Snitch, who'd been sucking his thumb, removed the aforementioned appendage and nodded confidently.

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Chaser said cheerily. "But one question?"

"What?"

"How exactly are we planning on doing this?"

I blinked. "Um... I hadn't actually thought of that."

Heels groaned. "Oh, shoot me..."

"Couldn't we just... you know, run in and disrupt it? Grab them and leave?"

They stared at me.

"Blink, my friend, I love you, but that's an idiotic idea," Chaser said calmly.

"Fine, what were _you_ planning on doing?" I replied.

"Guys, she's talking," Snoddy informed us quietly. We blinked and focused on Medda.

"Welcome, everyone!" she cried, smiling a huge, fake smile. "I would like to say how proud I am of these children. They've worked extremely hard over these past two months in order to overcome this disability. Good for them! Let's begin the ceremony!"

Immediately, David sat down at a keyboard on the stage and began to play. He was actually pretty good, which surprised me. I didn't think that David could do anything but play sports and yell at us.

Then, the remaining True Directions students started their "Walk of Shame" up the makeshift aisle in between the rows of chairs, and I kinda stopped looking at anything else.

"Holy _shit_," Snitch breathed from beside me.

Speed was the first girl to appear. She was wearing a bright pink dress. That much, I expected. What I didn't expect was for it to be roughly the size of a house. Seriously. This thing was poofier than Medda's hair, and that's saying something. Not to mention it was made of pleather. Dwell on that lovely mental image for a while. Bright. Pink. _Pleather_. With huge-ass bows all over it. Let's not even talk about the hot pink gloves, shoes, and earrings. Speed as well as Mayfly, who was walking directly behind her, looked absolutely miserable.

Then, came Itey.

Now, I'd never liked that kid. I _hated_ him with a burning, raging passion, as a matter of fact. But I couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

He was dressed in a disgusting neon blue tuxedo, also made of pleather. An enormous blue bow tie rested under his chin, and he looked like he wanted to kill something. ... okay, so he _always_ looked like he wanted to kill something, but this time, it looked like he was actually going to do it.

Race was directly behind him. I've got to admit, he looked like a sulky four-year-old in that stupid tux. It was adorable.

We watched closely as everyone marched up to a row of chairs in the front of the assembly and sat down. Medda clapped her hands together and continued to smile.

"When I call your name, please step forward to receive your diplomas. Janel Anders!"

Everyone waited patiently for Speed to step up.

But she never did.

Because she was already tearing across the field, hand in hand with Chaser.

"Go Chaser!" Snitch cheered softly. I grinned wildly before glancing back up at the stage.

Medda's smile never faded, but it did look like her eye was twitching a little bit. "Ooookay... Ashleigh Bennett."

I stared directly at Race as Mayfly accepted her diploma and sat back down, looking pretty damn disappointed with herself. I finally decided that I'd better do what I could before it was too late. So, I shimmied towards the front of the audience on my stomach to avoid being seen.

Finally, I found myself at his feet. "Race," I hissed. "_Race_!"

He looked down at me, and his eyes widened to the approximate size of a watermelon. "Blink, what the fuck are you doing here?!"

"I came to rescue you, dumbass!" He glanced quickly over the crowd, and I followed his gaze.

It was that guy, Mr. Snyder. And Avi was sitting right next to him.

"I can't, Blink," he whispered. "I just _can't_." Then, he stood up to receive his diploma.

I stared after him in shock. With my jaw still brushing the floor, I glanced behind me. Mandy was sobbing happily into Heels' shoulder. Snitch and Skittery were just looking at each other with these adorable embarrassed smiles on their faces. Swifty and Snoddy were making out like crazy. Chaser and Speed were long gone.

And I was left alone.

No way. No _way_ was I gonna let that happen to me.

So, I did what could be called the bravest or stupidest thing I'd ever done.

I stood up in the middle of the ceremony.

"Racetrack."

He stopped, stared at me, and dropped his diploma in shock. But he looked me straight in the eye, which was admirable.

"This isn't right. It _isn't_."

"Isaac Cliffton, what the _hell_ are you doing here?!" Medda snarled. I ignored her like I'd done a million times before.

"You know that this is wrong." With that, I turned to the crowd around me. "You've been wasting your money and your children's time. This place doesn't do anything. It doesn't _work_." Surprised murmurs immediately shot up. "All it does is keep your children or grandchildren or nieces or nephews or whatever from being who they are. And it makes them _so_ miserable that it isn't even funny." I focused my attention back on Racetrack and ignored Medda, who was screeching at me. "You can sit here and live a lie if you want to, but I won't. I can't wait around for someone who is too scared to admit who they are. And that's kinda sad because I really-" The words caught in my throat for a second, but I went on to say what I did because it was true. "I really love you." His jaw dropped. "I really, actually, for once in my life _love_ someone. But I can't just sit around and wait for you to decide one day that you're ready to stand up for yourself."

That's when David started chasing me, so I turned and ran as fast as I could towards the parking lot. I vaguely saw Specs frantically directing the various couples towards the van.

"Blink, where's Race?" he yelled. I swallowed thickly, fighting tears.

"He's... he's-"

"BLINK!" I turned around.

There was Race, flying towards me as he simultaneously tried to rip off the bow tie around his neck.

And Avi was right behind him, smiling like an angel.

I hardly had time to think before he was on me, his arms around my neck, his lips on mine. We were together. _Together_. The word sounded so good to me that I could hardly stand it.

And I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt that good.

"I love you, too, you know," he whispered, resting his forehead against my own.

"I know." Avi smiled serenely at us both.

"I think we're supposed to get in the car now," she said quietly, gesturing to Dutchy who was honking at us.

I walked towards the car, my hand clasped with Race's and my arm around Avi's shoulder. I was happy. Really and truly _happy_.

And, for the first time since I could remember, I felt like I really belonged somewhere.

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End Chapter Ten

End Fic

Well, everyone... this is it. *sad smile* This fic has taken up the majority of my time for the past four or five months, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Seriously, guys, I'm practically crying here. But, never fear! Two pieces of good news. A new fic, the one I mentioned before, will be out soon. It's called "Angelsight," and it's my masterpiece. I'm also re-doing "As the Curtain Falls," because I don't like the way it turned out. ^_^;; On to the shoutouts. But, before I do that... **huge, massive, incredible thanks to the NJL**. Without your... ahem... _support_ ("Are you writing? Huh? Are you? Are you? Are you? How about now?"), I probably wouldn't have finished this. Now, on to the shoutouts!

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geometrygal: Argh! Stoopid parentals! .O My parents get like that, too. They don't like how much of my time I spend writing, so that's the first thing that gets taken away when I screw up... anyway! *points* THERE YOU ARE! XDDD Anyway, hope you liked it, and thanks for reviewing!

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Loea: Aw, thank you! Uber-glad you liked it! *giggles and dances in a circle* See, the thing with the semi-sex is that I couldn't get a happy medium between not at all sex and wild, crazy, animal sex, so it kinda ended up... heavy snoggage with strong allusions to sex. *beams* Sankyuu for the review!

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Thistle: I can't believe it's over, meself. ^_^;; Buuuut, anywho, this chapter answered your questions, I assume. XD I love your random pairings, m'dear. Uber-thanks for the loverly review-age!

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Magpie1899: XDDDD You have NO idea how huge of a compliment that is! I'M A CONVERTER, WOO! Blink and Race _are_ adorable, aren't they? *giggles madly and dances in a circle* Tanytway, thanks SO much for the compliment and the review, and I hope you keep up with the slashiness! XD

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kellyanne: *glomps* It'd get boring if it went on forever. *beams* Don't die! I've got two more groovy fics in the making! ... I've forgotten how fun the word "groovy" is. XD Anywho, thanks for reviewing, my love! *glomps again*

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Shotiekins: You basically ARE the reason that these last two chapters happened. I want you to know that. You and Skittles and Lute. *tackle glomps* And, no, YOU rawk. You rawk like a mohawk. ... or something. Either way, I luffle you.

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Skittles: *feels uber-special to have BIAP placed in the Holy Grail of Binders* Please direct yourself to the above comment made to Shortie. XD I love you like a fat kid loves cake. Mmm... cake... *wanders off* *lovelovelove*

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Fidget: *blinks* *pokes Unconscious!Fidget* I LOVE YOUR LISTS! XDDD I feel so bad for being mean to Itey and Medda, though... Itey's actually my... third favorite newsie (after Blink and Skittery, tied with Dutchy). And Medda's just a pretty cool chica. But, tanytway... NEKKID!SPOT, WOO! *giggles and dances* *loves*

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Omni: *comforts* No cry, sillykins! And, yes, there's another story after this. And I'm saving spots for you and Shade and Skittles. *giggles* So, no fear! *glomps* *hearts muchly*

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Ireland: *cackles madly* Sappy probably wouldn't be to happy to hear you insulting the love of her life. *giggles* Anyway, I love you! WHEE! Thanks for all your consistent reviews, m'dear! *tackle glomps*

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Yoko-chan: MY LOVE! *glomps* *chews on arm* *grins sheepishly* Anyway. I love and adore you. And you need to write. Badly. And you know all about Angelsight. *cackles* *counter-glomps* LOVELOVELOVE!

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Aura: YES! FIREEEEEEE! ... ahem. *loves wildly*

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Twitch: ... those aren't meant for poking, dearie. -_- And you know damn good and well that you're not allowed to touch Blink! *whips hands* (love ya) Now, you must write. Everything. Now. Or I WILL CUT YOU. *bites* *loves*

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Demon: *giggles wildly* SQUEE! *hearts Squee* SANKYUU FOR THE REVIEW! XDDD

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Destruct-O Girl: Yup, this was the last one. *sad smile* Ah, well, s'okay! Thanks uber-muchly for the review-age!

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Liams Kitten: Eh, s'okay, I don't mind! *beams* I've been wanting to do a Spot/Blink fic for a while now, so I just randomly shoved that in there. *sheepish grin* MONTY PYTHON ROCKS! *dies* *resurrects* I ADORE YOU! *flying tackle glomps* LOVELOVELOVE! And thanks for all the loverly reviews!

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Holiday: HOLIDAY, WHEE! *huggles* Sugar rocks! AND SO DO YOU! *loves like crazy*

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Stage: GO YOU! *waves Stage flags* Avi's a real person, actually. She's in a bunch of my classes, and she really is that sweet. And she talks like that. Only think I changed was her age. *hearts Avi* *glomps da Stage*

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Nakaia: *quickly pops swelled ego* SANKYUU SO MUCH! XDDD Happy belated Thanksgiving to you! WHEE! And thanks SO much for the reviews! *huggles*

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Cerri: Okay, FFN definitely cut off like... your entire review. But thanks for whatever you were going to say! *beams*

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Soaker: Yeah, I didn't like that chapter at all, but what can you do? Those little filler chapters are necessary, I guess. *shrugs* *beams* Thanks for the review!

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Gryffin: "MUSES," WOO! That fic is so insane... that's why I heart it. ^_^ Anyway, YAY KLOPPMAN! AND GAY PEOPLE! And I luffle YOU more! XD *tackle glomps*

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B-baby: *huggles* YAY, 200! *cackles* Mansex is fun, though you and Funkie write it FAR better than I do. -_- *ish very bad at writing sex, as you can see from the lackage* Pouting!B is all EEP. Which makes no sense. But whatever. *tackle glomps* Much heart-age, m'dear. You are a goddess.

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V-channy-chan: *glomps* I MISS YOU. Seriously. I've been neglecting anime fandom, but I can't help it! *whimpers* LAYNE! Tell Layne to get her arse somewhere and get _Newsies_ BECAUSE I MISS HER LIKE CRAZY! *meeps* Sankyuu muchly for the luffly review-age, and I adooooore you! XD

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Colleen: Heya, darlin'! Yeah, I heard about Leo. *le sigh* He was a good guy. And Hayden had her baby yesterday at 2:10. Her name's Amalie, but we already knew that. Anyway. I MISS YOU! *huggles* Thanks for the review, my love!

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G.A: I LOVE YOU MORE! Davey IS an ass. But I don't like him, so it's all good. ^_^ *much love* I heart you, dearie!

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H.W.O: Cliffhangers ROCK! ... when you're not the one reading it. *cackles* _RENT_ IS FRICKIN' AWESOME! *dies* You rawk my sawks, H.W.O, my love. And tankies for reviewing-ness! *giggles and dances*

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Angel of Harmony: Wow... thanks SO much! Seriously, that's a major compliment. *beams* Glad you liked it! And, yes, that WAS an _Animorphs_ reference. *giggles* I keep thinking back to that chapter where they meet the Chee when Jake and Marco morphed dogs to get into the outdoor concert and "make sure that Alanis and Offspring weren't Controllers." *hearts that series* I have the TV show opening and everything, even though the show didn't last. Ahem. Enough _Animorphs_ rambling. Thanks _so_ much for the awesome compliment and review and whatnot! ^-^

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Tabber Lloydikins: LOVE YOU MORE! *tackles*

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Artemis-chan: Thanks, darlin'! Glad you liked it! *beams* *sighs* Yesh, it's over now... and that makes me sad... but it makes me happy, too... so, I understand exactly what you're going through! *giggles* Thanks SO much for all the loverly reviews, dearest!

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J-Sparrow: YOU ROCK ME TO THE MOON

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G.V: BAD GIRL! BUY _NEWSIES_! *whips* *sheepish grin* *loves*

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Radical Ed:EEEEEP! *flying tackle glomps* I MISSED YOU! Seriously, you and Pizza and the whole crew... kinda haven't been to the anime section in a while. ^_^;; But you rock, dude! *glomps*

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Kristan: PENGUIN! *chases it* QUACK, QUACK- wait, that's a duck. What sound does a penguin make? *ponders* *shrugs* *resumes chase* PENGUIN, PENGUIN, PENGUIN! Thanks for reviewing! PENGUIN!

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Shadey-love: *loves to death*

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Strawberri Shake: Aw, thanks! *beams* I'm glad you like my slashiness! *giggles* Thanks a load for the review!

Well, guys... this is the end. Be sure to check out my other stuff [/plug], and I'll be sure to have my new fics up soon! I SHALL END WITH A QUOTE!

"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are staring at the stars." -Oscar Wilde

*~Love, Sita~*


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